London Born
by LiteratusAO3
Summary: All Zoe Tyler wanted to do was to pass her A-Levels and go to university. She didn't account for her sister one day picking up a time-travelling alien with a magical blue box who proceeded to turn the lives of the Tyler family upside down and inside out. (This covers the entirety of season one and the Christmas special.) Part one of The Earthly Child Series (eventual Doctor/OC).
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

The Powell Estate in Peckham was a dull, miserable affair. Grey concrete stretched across the ground, interspersed with a few spots of yellowing grass and drooping flowers that only saw water when it rained. A newsagent had one window boarded up and a racist slur half-sprayed across the board where it was clear that someone had made a half-hearted attempt at scrubbing it off before giving it up for a bad job; there was the local bookies that was open and alive even on the quiet Sunday morning with the horse racing playing on the old square TV that was mounted in the corner; the pub on the corner of the estate was also doing steady business despite the early hour. All was made quiet by the inhabitants of the Powell Estate sleeping off their Saturday hangovers. Soon enough though, they would emerge from the ugly, square buildings of flats and shuffle to the nearest Wetherspoons for a greasy fry-up and a hair of the dog.

Nothing exciting ever happened on the Powell Estate.

Unless one counted the time that Jonny Dixon thought he could fly and tried to take a running jump off the top of his building and had to be wrestled to the ground by police officers whilst only wearing his baggy grey Y-fronts. Admittedly, he had been high on LSD at the time and was soon sectioned shortly after, which everyone considered a good thing as he had once rubbed soup into Priti Azadi's hair on a night out at the pub. No one was quite sure where he had got the soup from in the first place – or the can opener. Priti swore blind that she smelt like minestrone for days afterwards.

Ever since Jonny was bundled into the back of the police car three years earlier, things had been quiet and dull on the estate.

Therefore the arrival of a big blue box would have caused quite the stir if anyone had been awake to see it. It was a huge wooden box with bluer than blue paint on the outside and a somewhat dusty light on the top; fogged glass was set into the wooden doors and a small panel opened and shut, clacking as its form breathed into existence with a shuddering, wheezing groan. The latch was broken and needed to be fixed, although it had needed to be fixed for the last one hundred and fifty-three years so it wasn't holding out much hope for it to be mended soon. The box wouldn't have looked out of place in the 1960s when things such as public police boxes were still used, but it was an odd sight on the grey Sunday morning in 2006.

It kicked up a fierce wind as it settled onto the concrete with its back against the brick wall of the pub, pieces of rubbish tumbling and rolling across the floor, smacking against the newsagent's. A cat shivered behind the dustbin with its hackles raised, teeth bared as it hissed at the strangeness of the box before it streaked out and was across the courtyard to seek safety and comfort elsewhere. There was one brief moment of silence as the world settled back down around the new arrival before the wooden door opened and a young woman, familiar to those who lived on the estate, stepped out.

"How long have I been gone?" Rose asked, pushing her hair from her eyes as she looked around at the estate, eyes trying to see whether anything had changed; everything remained exactly as she remembered it.

Part of her had expected there to be some great change after everything she'd been through, and she was a little disappointed that there was nothing noticeably different.

The man who stepped out after her leaned against the side of his box. "About twelve hours."

"Oh, right." She said, having a little trouble connecting the small passage of time with everything that she had seen and done inside the box. "Well, I won't be long. I just want to see my family."

"What're you going to tell them?" The Doctor asked, surprised at himself for actually being curious. He had never once bought a companion back home before it was time for her to stay at home.

He congratulated himself for his growth.

Rose pulled a face and scrunched up her nose, undecided. "I don't know. I've been to the year 5 billion an' only been gone, what? Twelve hours?"

He raised his eyebrows, amused.

 _Humans_.

"Nah, I'll just tell 'em I spent the night at Shareen's." She grinned at him, tongue pressed between her teeth; his eyes flicked away from her, arms folding across his chest. Her finger with its bitten down nail pointed at him. "Don't you disappear while I'm gone, you hear me?"

The Doctor gave her a small, mocking wave and she dashed off with excitement and happiness pulsing through her. She didn't plan on staying long but she did want to see her mum and sister again before she took off travelling again. She also wanted to pack some of her own clothes. The Doctor's wardrobe was all well and good but she preferred her own jeans and T-shirts. She pulled open the door to her building. She bypassed the lift that hadn't worked in years and always reeked of urine; instead, she took the stairs two at a time and was out of breath by the time she reached the top. She hadn't dared shower on the TARDIS. It was all so alien that she was worried the water might strip her skin from her or, possibly less nefariously, turn her a different colour. She didn't think the Doctor bothered thinking too much about those things.

She dug into the pocket of her jeans for her flat key, relieved that she hadn't lost it in her travels, and jammed it into the lock. She had to jiggle it as the lock always stuck but she opened the front door with her heart thundering from her workout up the stairs.

"I'm back!" Rose called out, tossing her keys into the bowl near the door, moving towards the living room. "I was with Shareen. She was all upset again. Are you in?"

She spared a passing glance at her bedroom, which looked different, and her mother's room, which looked the same. She breezed into the living room, nearly tripping on a box by the sofa and tossing her hair from her eyes. She grinned. Her mother was framed in the doorway of the kitchen in her dressing gown holding a cup of tea and looking as though she had seen her ghost. Her sister was eating cereal at the table but seemed to have forgotten that she was holding a spoon because the milk and cheerios were dribbling into her lap.

Rose looked between them.

"What? What're those faces for?" She asked. "It's not the first time I've stayed out all night."

Her sister let out a strangled sound of disbelief and her mother dropped her cup of tea. The ceramic mug shattered on the floor, and the hot liquid soaked into the permanently stained carpet.

"It's you." Jackie Tyler whispered, voice cracking and eyes filling with tears. She reached out for Rose before she snatched her hands back, hesitant and unsure about whether she was dreaming.

Uncertainty and a hint of fear began to take root in her chest. Rose looked to her sister for some sort of help, but Zoe was as pale and as shocked as their mother. "Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"

"Oh my god...it's you. Oh my god." Jackie choked on her tears, moving forwards and grabbing Rose in a hug so tight and so desperate that she had no choice but to wrap her arms around her mother's warm, soft body and hug her back.

Zoe dropped her spoon and it bounced off of her thigh and fell to the floor, drawing Rose's attention to posters with her face smiling out from the front.

Missing from the Powell Estate.

Last seen 6th March 2005.

If you have any information, please call this number.

07772065812

Rose didn't have time to do anything more than feel a blank shock unfurling through her when the front door burst open and the Doctor sprinted in, startling all three women. He was out of breath and he looked more flustered than Rose had ever seen him. His eyes were big and apologetic as he curled his fingers around her elbow and pulled her towards him; he didn't manage to detach her from her mother, whose eyes began to narrow suspiciously.

"It's not twelve hours, it's twelve months." The Doctor said, eyes darting around the women in the room nervously. "You've been gone a whole year. Sorry."

Silence grabbed the room and everything froze.

Jackie stared at the Doctor.

Rose stared at the ceiling.

Zoe simply paused in the act of standing up from her chair.

And the Doctor grinned at them in a manner that made him look as charming as a serial killer who had just discovered cannibalism was the best means for disposing of bodies.

Rose had never wanted to smack anyone harder in her life.

"Who the hell are you?" Jackie demanded, finding her voice and her anger with it. Her words shook with fury, confusion, and grief.

"Oh, yes, sorry." The Doctor said with his wide smile that was bordering on terrifying. "I'm the Doctor. Nice to meet you."

"The Doctor?" She repeated, disdain and disbelief dripping from every inch of her body. "Really?"

"Mum..." Rose said quietly, and Jackie swept her attention back to her daughter, her face softening but still tight with tension.

She noted how much older Jackie looked: her hair was dark with roots, and her face had extra lines that hadn't been there the last time Rose had seen her mum. She looked tired and thin and stretched tight like an elastic band pulled between two distant points. She'd never looked so ill and worn before and guilt painted the inside of Rose's throat.

"Where have you been?" Jackie asked, fingers curling around Rose's biceps as though wanting to shake her. "You've been gone an entire year. We thought you were dead!"

Rose looked down at the ground. Her shoes were scuffed and the laces were frayed. "I...just...I was travellin'."

"Travellin'?" Zoe said, speaking for the first time. Rose risked a glance. Zoe stood the rest of the way, her fingertips resting on the table; her face was young and confused.

Rose swallowed. "Yeah."

"But you didn't have your passport." Zoe said, and Rose pressed her lips together, panic fizzing in her chest. "It's still in the drawer. We checked when you...when you didn't come home that night. The police thought you might have run away."

"I..." she looked to the Doctor but he seemed as lost as she was.

"Zoe." Jackie said sharply; her youngest daughter jumped a little. "Call the police. Tell 'em that Rose is back. Maybe they can get some sense out of her. Then go put some clothes on." She eyed the Doctor distrustfully. "This one seems to like 'em young."

The insult took a moment to register but when it did, the Doctor looked outraged. "Oi!"

"Oi, what, mate?" Jackie snapped back at him, all fire and fury. "What've you been doin' with my daughter, you filthy pervert?"

Under any other circumstance, Rose thought that she might have found the look of disgust, outrage, and horror on the Doctor's face entertaining. He fumbled for his words through his indignation but Jackie was in no mood for a reasoned discussion and the tips of his ears burned red as she kept insulting him whilst he struggled to respond. As Zoe edged past them around the edge of the room to slip into the hallway to call the police with a wary look on her face, Jackie launched into a furious tirade.

She seemed unable to decide what she wanted to know first – who the doctor was and what his relationship to Rose was, or where Rose had been for the last year.

It was a tense forty minutes as they waited for the police officer to arrive. No one seemed to know what to say to each other and Jackie was getting more and more worked up the more that Rose kept avoiding the question. Zoe returned to the living room after calling the police and throwing on some decent clothes before tucking herself away in the corner to listen and watch. Even after the police officer arrived, things didn't become much clearer.

Constable Stanley Vickers was having a hard time understanding what was going on as everyone was talking quite loudly and very angrily. Although, by everyone, he did just mean Mrs Tyler who seemed to be able to shout loud enough for all of Peckham; the gentleman that she was directing her ire towards had retreated into a sulky silence by an armchair. It wasn't how he had wanted to spend his Sunday shift. He quite liked Sundays at the station. There was never a lot of crime on a Sunday, which meant that he was able watch the football match in the afternoon in the back office or do his crossword with his feet propped up and a nice cup of tea next to him. He hadn't been too happy at getting sent out by his sergeant to follow up on a missing person who seemed to have returned home none the worse for wear.

From what he could make out – in between the shouting that was – she'd taken off with a new boyfriend and just hadn't told her mum.

 _Typical_ he thought to himself as he jotted down a few meagre notes to fill out the report and close the case when he got back to the station.

It happened more often than people thought. People had arguments with their families, found a new partner to kick around with and then not call so as to punish the parents or guardians. It was a little sad but that was life on the estate. Admittedly, no one had taken it quite as far as Rose Tyler; a year without contact was pushing the boundaries too far, but she was back, unharmed as far as Stanley could see, and eager to be away from there again if the expression on her face was anything to go by.

"The hours we've sat here, days an' weeks an' months, all on our own." Jackie said, voice wavering between blistering fury and deep grief that rose and fell in a crescendo. "We thought you were dead! An' where were you? _Travellin_ '. What the hell does that mean? Travellin'? That's no sort of answer." She stepped back and blew out an agitated breath. She looked to Stanley who was discreetly doodling on his pad. "You ask her. She won't tell me. That's all she says. Travellin'."

"That's what I was doin'." Rose protested weakly, her voice thick with tears and guilt as she pulled at the knees of her jeans, actively avoiding eye contact with her mother.

Stanley opened his mouth to speak.

"When your passport's still in the drawer?" Jackie demanded, shaking her head. Stanley shut his mouth again. "It's one lie after another."

Rose raised her wet eyes. "I meant to phone. I really did. I just...I...I forgot."

"For a year?" Zoe asked, and Stanley hid his surprise well, or at least he felt he did. He'd forgotten the girl was there she'd been so quiet, sitting in the corner and just watching and listening. "You forgot for a whole year? Rose...mum an' I thought you were dead. Do you understand that? We thought someone had killed you an' dumped your body in a river, an' you're sayin' that you _forgot to call us_ for an entire year? I'm with mum. I don't believe that."

Jackie sank down in front of Rose and held her knees in her hands, her palms curling over her daughter's jeans. "Why won't you tell us where you've been?"

"Actually," the Doctor said, clearing his throat awkwardly. All eyes turned to him. "It's my fault. I sort of – er – employed Rose as my companion."

From the corner of his eye, for he didn't dare look openly, the Doctor saw Zoe frown and mouth the word 'companion' with a scrunched nose. Maybe he did need to change what he called his travelling companions. Assistant? Partner? Comrade?

He would have to think about it.

"When you say companion," Stanley said, finally able to get a word in. "Is this a sexual relationship?"

"NO!" Rose and the Doctor exclaimed together, colour rising in Rose's cheeks at the question.

"Then what is it?" Jackie exclaimed, anger and frustration billowing out of her again. "Because you!" She stood and turned to the Doctor who lacked the good sense to look even a little wary. "You waltz in here all charm an' smiles, an' the next thing I know, she vanishes off the face of the Earth!"

Rose gained a new, fervent interest in her knees.

"How old are you then?" Jackie demanded. "Forty? Forty-five? What? Did you find her on the Internet? Did you go online an' pretend you're a doctor?"

"I am a doctor!" He protested, once again giving into outrage at the line of questioning. " _The_ Doctor, if you will."

Zoe knew what Jackie was about to do. She could see it coming after a lifetime of watching her mother get into various scraps whilst out shopping. She had plenty of time to intervene and prevent it from happening but she wanted to see it, and she wanted to live it vicariously because she knew that she would never be able to do it herself. Part of her knew it was wrong to let it happen but the larger part of her, the part that had spent the last twelve months listening to her mother cry at night and experiencing dreams of her sister rotting in a river somewhere, flesh dripping from her bones, was silently urging her mum to make it hurt.

"Oh, yeah? Well, stitch this, mate." Jackie drew her arm back and the crack of palm against cheek was as satisfying as Zoe had hoped.

The Doctor's head snapped to one side. He looked so bewildered and surprised, as though not able to believe that someone would dare hit him, that Zoe started to laugh. Her laughter broke the mood of anger and frustration, restoring some semblance of normality and good manners to the group. Jackie stalked off to the kitchen and set about making the angriest cup of tea she could, banging the kettle and snapping the cupboard doors shut so that it echoed and rattled. Zoe popped herself down on the sofa and occasionally had to hide her face in her knees as the giggles took over whilst Stanley took statements from Rose and the Doctor.

He promised to close the case within the week and he seemed pleased to leave when he did. Families were a particular minefield that he was happy to have avoided. He was on the older side of fifty and was happy to go home every night to his small flat and his loyal cat who would curl up on his lap as he watched the TV. It was perfect; much better than the chaos that families brought with them. He nodded to Zoe Tyler, who had politely shown him to the door in an attempt to stop the laughter that kept bubbling up within her.

It didn't work as she was still smiling when she shut the door and turned around only to find herself nose to chest with the Doctor who was attempting to leave the flat also. He looked disgruntled and unhappy; his left cheek flared with red and the marks of Jackie's fingers. She snorted and dissolved into fresh laughter, hand fumbling for the door handle before pulling it open. His face twitched with annoyance, and he left the flat with as much dignity as he could manage whilst Zoe shook with laughter against the door.

It felt like hours later when everything finally settled down and tears were shed and hugs were exchanged. Zoe felt emotionally worn out and she wanted to curl up on the sofa and have a nap in front of the TV. Neither her nor Jackie knew what was going on still but they were focusing on the fact that Rose was home and alive and seemingly safe. They had no idea of who the Doctor was but he hadn't returned to the flat after leaving it in the wake of Constable Vickers. Both of them preferred it that way. There was something about him that was just a little bit off and they could put their finger on what it was. They reluctantly watched Rose leave to go and look for him; Jackie clearly wanted to put her foot down or follow her, just so that she wasn't out of her sight, but she held back.

The front door shut quietly behind Rose, and the flat filled with the same silence that had wrapped around it for the last twelve months. It felt empty and bereft without Rose there and Zoe dropped her head into her hands, exhaling deeply. Her mum patted her clumsily on the back before stepping away into the kitchen. It was only a few minutes before Zoe could hear her sniffling and trying to muffle her cries in the other room. She felt exhausted, physically and emotionally exhausted, wrung out from the last twelve months of worry and fear and thinking up all of the worst-case scenarios she could imagine about what had happened to Rose. She let her forehead fall onto the surface of the table that was a little sticky from the milk that had dried there.

She must have dropped off for a moment because she jumped, surprised, when she felt Jackie's hand on the top of her head some time later. Her mother took the seat next to her and Zoe tipped into her arms, face against her shoulder; she wanted to crawl into her lap like she was five years old again.

They sat there in silence, Jackie absently stroking her daughter's hair. Zoe listened to the comforting sound of her heartbeat. "At least she's alive."

Jackie smiled a troubled smile against the top of her head. "Yeah. Lyin', but alive."

"I'll take that over dead an' truthful any day." Zoe said on a sigh; Jackie gave her a tight squeeze. She tilted her face up and gave a little grin. "Nice slap, by the way."

Her mother laughed, wiping at her face. "Felt bloody brilliant."

Zoe kissed her cheek. "Why don't you go put on your make-up an' I'll go see where Rose an' the big-eared pervert have got to?"

"All right," Jackie agreed as she did feel vulnerable and naked without her usual layer of make-up on. She didn't like the idea of Rose's bloke seeing her without it. It felt as though she was giving away a layer of protection. "Take your phone, love."

"Of course." She replied. Ever since Rose had disappeared, Jackie never let Zoe leave the flat without her phone fully charged and at least £10 credit on it.

To be fair though, Zoe didn't much like leaving the flat since Rose's disappearances. She could get herself worked up with nightmarish what-ifs and worry that whoever had taken Rose would come back and take her. The number of nightmares she'd had over the last twelve months, leaving her sweaty and terrified, all blended together to form one tight ball of anxiety and fear that made the outside world a scary place to be – not all the time, not during the day, but at night, when she was walking home from work; she hoped the fear would leave her now that Rose was back.

She made her mum a cup of tea before she left the flat. She left it on the dressing table in her mum's bedroom before she grabbed her denim jacket from her bedroom, pulling it out from under her textbooks. The day was cool but spring was definitely in the air. It smelt fresh and lovely – or as fresh and lovely as London could ever smell – and she peered over the railing to look down into the courtyard below but she could only see Devon Costello playing football against a wall. Rose wouldn't take off again, not so abruptly, not when she had seen how upset Jackie was; at least that was what she told herself as she headed for the stairwell. She took the stairs up two at a time before reaching the roof.

The door was flapping in the breeze and she pushed it open, placing the brick that the residents used to keep it open down on the ground. Residents weren't technically allowed on the roof but the council barely came around except when the rent was late so no one paid much attention to the rules they set down. The general attitude was that they'd start paying attention when the council started fixing things – starting with the elevator that had been out of order for coming on three years now; the council kept saying they would send someone around and then they kept not doing it.

She looked around and, sure enough, saw Rose and her new fancy man/kidnapper/weirdo sitting on the low wall and talking. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jacket and approached them, their voices cutting out at the sound of her peeling trainers dragging across the grey concrete.

"Don't mind me." Zoe said, a hint of sharpness in her voice. "Don't mean to interrupt this textbook display of Stockholm Syndrome."

The Doctor rolled his eyes even as his mouth twitched with a hint of amusement. Rose's face creased in confusion. "Stockholm what?"

"I'm implyin' that this prat kidnapped you." She said, jerking an elbow at the Doctor whilst looking at her sister. "You've never appreciated my wit."

"You've got to have wit for me to appreciate it." Rose replied, and Zoe and the Doctor both snorted with laughter before eyeing each other suspiciously, as though uncertain whether it was a positive thing that they had both found that funny. "Mum sent you to check up on me?"

"Don't be a bitch." Zoe frowned. "You put Mum an' me through hell this last year. Least you could do is act like you're even a little bit sorry about it."

Rose's face softened and opened up with honesty. "Zo, I am sorry."

Zoe looked away from her and out across the buildings that formed her small part of London. "Yeah, which is why you're up here havin' a grand old laugh with big ears here instead of downstairs with your family."

The Doctor looked offended. "My ears aren't that bad!"

"Have you looked in a mirror, mate?" She shot back at him; he scowled at her. She glowered back, enjoying the childish pettiness, before looking to Rose who was playing with the hem of her pink T-shirt. "If you don't want to tell Mum, fine, whatever, but you can tell me what you've been doin'. I'm your sister."

"Zoe, I don't..." Rose hesitated, and she made the mistake of looking to the Doctor.

"What?" She asked, anger coursing through her, taking her by surprise. "He doesn't let you speak without his permission? You've forgotten how to think for yourself again?" She felt dizzy with anger, and she removed her hands from her pockets to clench them into fists at her side. "Jesus Christ, Rose, is this Jimmy fuckin' Stone all over again? Because if it is, just say the word, an' I'll push this asshole off the buildin'."

"No! No! Of course not!" Rose protested, jumping down from the wall and moving towards her. "Zoe, I promise. It's not like that at all."

The Doctor watched them with great interest. "Who's Jimmy Stone?"

"How about I push him off the buildin' anyway?" She asked hopefully, but Rose shook her head even as the Doctor shifted slightly further away from her. She watched him with narrowed eyes.

Rose stared at her sister. All their lives, it had been just the two of them and Jackie: the Three Musketeers against the world. Jackie looked older and so did Zoe. She'd lost the soft roundness of her face, and her jaw and cheekbones were sharper than she remembered. She looked thinner as well, more breakable than she'd ever done before. The dig about not thinking for herself had landed exactly how Zoe had intended it to, and Rose made her decision between one heartbeat and the next.

"I was travellin'," Rose said and Zoe opened her mouth so Rose rushed on, words tripping out of her mouth. "In time an' space."

The Doctor's head swivelled and his eyes were as focused as lasers. _Interesting_ he thought. He couldn't remember if anyone had ever told their family the truth before. He was curious to see what happened next.

Over the years, he had been amazed by the human capacity to accept that which was strange and terrifying to them. All of the bright and shining companions he had had since arriving on Earth all those years ago, all of his brilliant and miraculous friends, they had truly been the best that Earth had to offer; their minds were bright and open and full of the same joy and curiosity that drove him to explore and travel. Yet, within the very same species, there were humans who ignored that which was obvious and right in front of their noses. He had seen scientists and politicians, teachers and doctors, all ignore the blindingly obvious because it didn't fit it with their accepted world view.

He was curious as to which category Rose's sister would fall into.

Zoe pushed away from her sister with a roll of her eyes. "Piss off. If you're goin' to lie to me then at least think up a decent lie, Rose. I'm not _stupid."_

"I'm not lyin' to you," Rose said, fighting to grasp Zoe's hands that were still clenched as fists at her side. She finally managed to get hold of them as her little sister had never been particularly good at fighting her off, winning one fight in ten over the years. "Zoe. I'm tellin' the truth. He's an alien."

Zoe looked at the Doctor over Rose's shoulder. The Doctor's focused face switched to a large toothy grin that she imagined he thought was reassuring but was actually just disturbing. She snorted. "An' I'm the Queen of Sheba."

"Met her once," The Doctor piped up cheerfully. "Lovely woman. Very intelligent. Makes a great chicken soup."

Zoe blinked at him. "Rose, I swear to god –"

"Which one?" He asked, momentarily rendering her silent. "There are many."

"You are not helpin'," Rose whispered at him harshly. His mouth twitched, enjoying the slow crawl of hot anger across Zoe's face. She was so small and young that it looked cute instead of threatening. "Look, I can prove it to you." Rose turned her back on the Doctor as he was being absolutely no help. "He has a ship. This – this space ship, I suppose, but it's not just a space ship – it's also a time machine. It's called the TARDIS."

"Stupid name."

"Oi!" The Doctor exclaimed, finally hopping down from the wall. Entertaining as he found poking her into anger, she had gone one step too far by insulting the TARDIS. "There is nothing stupid about my ship, young lady."

"Young lady?" Zoe repeated. She wrenched her hands out of Rose's and marched over to the Doctor who, still sore from Jackie's slap, wisely retreated but she wouldn't let him. She stood toe to toe with him, if not eye to eye, and she poked him in the chest. _Hard_.

"Ow."

"Listen to me, you KGB wannabe." Zoe said furiously, poking him in the chest again. "I don't know what you've done to my sister but when I find out, I'm goin' to find the nearest car I can an' I am going to _run_ – _you_ – _down_."

Rose tried to pull her back but she wouldn't let herself be moved. "Zoe!"

"Aliens an' time machines!" She shot at him, cheeks stained with blood and eyes bright. It was fascinating to watch her reaction to her anger. "Have you drugged her with somethin', you –?

Whatever fresh insult Zoe had concocted in her anger never had the opportunity to be spoken aloud as there was a sound of a deep, loud horn that blared from above them. She physically jumped from the ground in surprise and fear at the unexpected noise; all three of them snapped their heads around and looked up into the sky, following the source of the disturbance. From the clouds that covered London that cool Sunday morning, a spaceship careened close to the city with black smoke trailing in its wake. Zoe felt a strong hand press against her shoulders, forcing her to the ground. Her knees cracked against the unforgiving concrete, and she dropped the rest of the way without any encouragement as she covered her head with her arms whilst the world around her shook around her; the spaceship passed overhead, missing them by only a few feet.

The pressure on her shoulder eased, and she sat up, wide eyed and breathless. "Oh my god."

Rose grinned at her, face bright and glowing. "Believe me now?"

The Doctor leapt to his feet, and Rose scrambled after him. "Come on!"

Zoe stared up at him from the ground, knees aching. "What?"

"Come on!" He laughed, delighted at the turn of events. He bent and scooped Zoe up, lifting her to her feet so swiftly that she stumbled. He grabbed Rose's hand and then Zoe's and pulled them along in his wake. "Hurry up!"

"Where are we goin'?" Zoe asked, stumbling down the steps after them, not used to having someone hold her hand whilst she walked let alone ran.

"A spaceship just crashed into the middle of London." The Doctor grinned, and his entire face was transformed – he looked like an excited child. "We're going to look at it."

"We'll never get close enough." She protested as she tried to get her feet under her.

Rose bounced along beside her, weaving through the people who had emerged from their flats to see what had happened. "We've got the TARDIS."

"Nope." The Doctor shook his head. "Whole world's going to be on alert. Don't want anyone picking up the TARDIS and realising I'm here. You lot are going to have to figure this out on your own."

"Then how are we goin' to get close enough?" Rose asked as the Doctor dragged Zoe down the stairwell; Rose was eager enough to move under her own steam.

"You've got two legs, haven't you, Rose Tyler?" He asked, thrilled that it wasn't just going to be a boring visit to London filled with domestics and mothers. "We're going to walk."

"Then I'll repeat myself since you seem to be hard of hearing despite the excess help," Zoe said, finally pulling her hand free of the Doctor's and grabbing him by the back of his leather jacket. She pulled him up short, and he gave a little sound of surprise at being so manhandled; she spun him around; his arms flailed but caught himself on the bannister that was, for reasons unbeknownst to him, sticky. "We'll never get close enough."

"Then stay here," he said, dismissing her from his mind as his interest in her fled in the face of her dullness.

"Listen, Spock," Zoe scowled at him, hair falling into her eyes. "The whole of London just saw a giant alien spaceship crash into the centre of London. It takes twenty-five minutes to get to the centre by the tube. By the time we get there, all the streets for at least a mile around will be shut down an' blocked off an' the police will be in place. We – won't – get – close – enough."

The Doctor finally stopped. He stared at her. "Oh."

"Yeah. _Oh._ " Zoe rolled her eyes, flexing her hand where he had gripped it a little too hard in his enthusiasm. He looked like a small child who had been told he couldn't have his dessert.

Rose looked between them. "Now what?"

"Now we go back upstairs an' watch it like everyone else," she replied, already starting up the stairs at a more sedate place. "On the bloody TV."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Zoe sat cross-legged in one of the armchairs, a cup of tea held between her hands, as she attempted to watch the news through the noise that tried hard to drown it out. The flat had filled up quickly after the three of them returned from the Doctor's aborted attempt to get as close to the action as possible. Friends and neighbours and spilled in and all had spent an appropriate amount of time both gaping at Rose and chastising her for being gone for so long; Rose tried to press herself down into the fake white leather of an armchair, her cheeks burning, but the neighbours were relentless until Jackie pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam that she kept secreted away in one of the kitchen cupboards. She poured liberal measures into people's cups, in her element with everyone around her.

The Doctor appeared oblivious to the stares that he received; deaf to the dark murmurings that were spoken behind hands as eyes darted across to him. People tried to figure out who he was and why he had chosen Rose as his travelling companion – a phrase none of them understood –, but he ignored all attempts at conversation and so they left him alone. As Rose was currently in the middle of being told off by Ru Chan, a woman who had lived in Bucknall House for longer than the Tylers and had babysat both of Jackie's daughters when they were little, he was able to try and listen to the news. He could hear the slightly confused tone of the news reporter's voice as his hearing was superior to Zoe's, who kept shifting in her seat and leaning forwards in an attempt to hear better.

One of the Costello children climbed into the Doctor's lap. Zoe made a move to free him of the child but, to her surprise, he let little Elijah crawl all over him, his hand occasionally twitching to stop him from toppling off. She hid her surprised smile behind her cup of tea, settling back into her seat. She eyed him curiously but looked away whenever he glanced in her direction. She didn't want him to think her too eager, particularly after she had threaten to throw him off the roof, and since he had actually kidnapped her sister. Eventually though, her curiosity got the better of her, and she bit back her pride in order to feed it.

Shifting so that she could lean closer to him, he looked towards her, faintly surprised and healthily cautious of her. "Do you recognise the ship?"

His bright eyes examined her for a moment before they softened slightly, making him seem kinder than first impressions of him had led her to believe.

He shook his head. "No."

"Do you know why it crashed?"

"Nope."

Zoe sighed and leaned back, disappointed. "Big help you are."

"I don't know everything." He told her honestly, pulling the remote from Elijah's mouth and wiping the saliva off on his jeans, unbothered. "But this is what I travel for, you see? To see history happening right in front of me."

"But if you do really travel in time then shouldn't you know what's about to happen?" She asked him. The strangeness of the words coming out of her mouth registered for a moment before she pushed it to one side. "If it's history, then it's already happened an' it can't be changed, right?"

He looked impressed and amused, although he tried his best to hide the latter emotion. "You don't happen to like Star Trek, do you?"

She stared at him. "Who doesn't like Star Trek?"

The Doctor shifted his body so that he was facing her better. Unconsciously, she angled her body to match his. "Time travel isn't like it is in science fiction."

"No temporal prime directive?" She teased, surprising herself.

"Well, yes." He admitted, and she pursed her lips to hide her smile at the contradiction. "My people had a very strong set of rules governing the use of time travel but those are synthetic constraints put upon time by a set of beings. Time itself can be rewritten. The past is ever changing."

Zoe felt a frown press deep on her forehead as she tried to understand his words. She understood each of them individually but when he put them together like that it took her a few seconds to make sense of them.

"That don't make sense. If time can be rewritten, then – then..." she trailed off and rubbed her nose with the flat of her tea-heated palm as she thought harder than she normally had to do. The Doctor waited patiently; it took her a minute. "If time can be rewritten, then that implies that time isn't linear."

He hadn't actually expected her to get there. He had expected her to concede defeat and ask him what it meant. He found himself quietly impressed. "Exactly right."

"But if time isn't linear then why do we have things like the Holocaust in our history?" She asked, and the Doctor's attention, which had been half on her and half on the news, turned entirely to her. She was asking questions about things she shouldn't know to ask about. "Surely someone could go back in time, kill Hitler or, you know, make sure he gets into art school an' then _bam_! No Holocaust. No massive loss of life. Happy world."

"There are certain things called fixed points in time," he explained, happy to pour all of his attention onto Zoe, who had gone from annoying little sister who threatened him with bodily violence to a person of no interest to a person of great interest all in the space of approximately one hour. "A fixed point in time is an event that is crucial to the integrity of the universe's timeline. If a fixed point doesn't happen, then very bad things happen instead."

Zoe rubbed at her forehead with a small frown and a growing pout. He imagined a headache was forming there as 21st century minds weren't exactly built for temporal mechanics. "But why would the Holocaust be a fixed point in time? It was six years on one planet. How can that affect the structural integrity of the universe – or whatever it was you just said?"

"You'd be surprised," the Doctor said. "The Holocaust was an important part of human history; the consequences of it will be felt for hundreds of years. It changed the way that you lot viewed each other. Taught you lessons that shaped the people you will become. And when you lot of blundering apes eventually make it out into the universe, you're going to need those lessons."

She scrunched her face up, clearly hitting her saturation point. "I feel like you callin' us apes might be racist, but I'm not sure."

"Speciest, perhaps, but not racist."

She snorted and downed her cup of tea. Standing up, she looked down at him as she stretched her back out. "Fancy a brew? I promise I won't poison you."

"Two sugars, ta," he said.

He watched her go, interested in the clever little ape who asked questions she shouldn't know to ask; also, he was relieved. She seemed less inclined to push him off of buildings at the moment, and he preferred to keep it that way.

Elijah finally wrestled the remote from him and changed the channel to a man making a paper mâché spaceship. "Oi, you little devil."

It turned out that Zoe made an excellent cup of tea, which he felt was a large point in her favour. After she got rid of Elijah by chasing him off back to his big sister who was trying to pump Rose for information about what she had been doing, they sat in their armchairs and watched the news. The gathering of neighbours and friends turned into an impromptu welcome home party for Rose who looked exhausted at being the centre of attention. She once looked imploringly over at Zoe for rescue, but Zoe just smiled at her sister and took a sip of her tea as Jackie wouldn't let her have any of the alcohol that was floating around, courtesy of Bev and her new bloke.

Just when she was beginning to think she wanted to get up and stretch her legs in the fresh air, the TV finally had something interesting to say.

" _A body of some sort has been found inside the wreckage of the spacecraft."_ The news reporter said, and she leaned forwards. " _It has been brought to the nearest shore. Unconfirmed reports say that the body is of extra-terrestrial origin. It is an extraordinary event unfolding here live in Central London. The body is being transferred to a secure mortuary at Albion Hospital._ "

"It's not secure if he's saying the bloody name on live TV with the world watching," she muttered, and the Doctor smiled at that. She stretched her legs out in front of her and rolled her ankles. She looked at him expectantly. "All right. You're meant to be the expert here. What happens next?"

"What d'you mean?"

"You nearly pulled my arm out of its socket just to get a glimpse at this spaceship," she pointed out. "You tryin' to tell me that you're happy just to sit here an' watch when you now know that ET has been pulled from the water?"

"Zoe Tyler," he began, voice low and amused; she felt herself blushing at the tone. "Stop reading my mind."

She flipped him off, tugging at the collar of her shirt, and he laughed before rising to his feet, suddenly towering over her. He was very tall, and she had to look up and up until she could see his face. He held out his hand to her. She looked at him. He waggled his fingers. She poked his palm. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You're supposed to take it."

"Yeah, I'm not five," she scoffed, standing up and forcing him to take a step back so that she had room. "But if it's an invitation to come with you then I'm in."

He beamed. "Brilliant."

"Mainly because I'm still not 100% convinced you are actually an alien," she admitted, "an' also because if you do really have a spaceship then I definitely want to see it."

"I've heard worse reasons," he said, and he went to take her hand automatically but she swept it out of the way whilst levelling him with a look that clearly said _I'm not a child;_ she walked past him in a move that could only be described as a flounce.

"Mum!" Zoe called over the noise, elbowing her way through to Jackie. She shoved her face close to her mother's so that she could speak into her ear. "I'm headin' out with the Doctor."

Jackie shook her head, cheeks flushed from the Jim Beam. "No, love."

"It'll be fine," she promised sincerely. "I've got my phone. It's fully charged, an' I really want to stretch my legs."

"I don't trust him," Jackie said, not bothering to lower her voice. The Doctor heard her but he was engaged in a whispered argument with Rose in the hallway and only spared her half a glare.

"Nor do I," she admitted quietly, "not yet. But I reckon he's goin' to be 'round for a long while if Rose has anythin' to say about it. Figure one of us should get to know him. Might as well be me because that means you can go right on hatin' him."

"Oh, love," Her mother sighed, looking impossibly sad and a little bit tipsy. "Please be careful."

"I always am," she said honestly. She kissed her mother's cheek and squeezed her hand before she slipped away to where Rose was looking nervous. "Ready, ears?"

"Zoe –" Rose started.

"Go stay with Mum," Zoe interrupted. "I want to chat with your boyfriend."

Rose blushed and the Doctor's ears went red. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Whatever," she replied with a grin, setting off down the concrete walkway. "C'mon, Paris."

She heard the Doctor's heavy booted steps following her. He caught up easily with his long legs. "Paris?"

"The Trojan," she said, looking up at him. "Kidnapped Helen of Troy?"

"Implying I kidnapped Rose," the Doctor said, understanding. "Clever."

"It's nice to be appreciated."

They made quick time descending the stairs, and they stepped out into the cold night's air. Zoe was glad that she had had the foresight to bring her denim jacket. "So where's your ship?"

"Right there," the Doctor said, pointing at a blue police box that was settled against one wall.

She stopped. "You're kiddin'."

"Nope," he replied, digging around in his pockets for his key. He had just given Rose the one he always kept to hand but he knew he had a spare one somewhere in the depths of his pockets.

"Your ship's made of wood," Zoe pointed out as she tentatively approached it and touched the side with careful fingers. "An' it says police on the front. If you're havin' me on, I'm goin' to kick you in the ankle."

"Are these violent tendencies of yours habitual or a new phenomenon?" He asked her, finally locating the key in a dusty bag of old jelly babies. He blew the old powdered sugar off it and rubbed it against his jacket.

"Relatively recent," she answered distractedly, peering around all sides of the TARDIS as though looking for more. She pressed her hands against the wood. "Started today in fact."

"You should probably get that seen to," he advised as he unlocked the doors. "Not good for your blood pressure."

"I'm seventeen," she shot back snarkily, "I'm sure I'll manage."

The Doctor opened the doors and strode inside knowing that she would follow him.

She was right on his heels and he turned just in time to witness her seeing the inside of the TARDIS for the first. He loved the moment when all of their preconceived notions fell away and the universe was opened to them. He never tired of seeing the reactions of people to his TARDIS. It always reminded him of the first time he stepped inside the TARDIS, ushering Susan inside the one he had been directed to by a helpful engineer. She had been right – the navigation system had been knackered (still was) but he had had so much fun; centuries and centuries of fun and adventure in his beautiful ship. He felt the warm wave of the TARDIS's affection sweep over him, and he gently patted her console.

 _That's my girl_ he thought fondly.

All of Zoe's fire, her quick comments, and general disbelief fell away from her. Her face slackened and opened as awe exploded across her young features; her mouth dropped open and every part of her body relaxed in wonder. She walked slowly up the ramp and turned very slowly on the spot. She didn't blink as she tried to take in everything all at once, and she forgot how to breathe in that moment.

He crossed his arms over his chest, pleased. "So...questions?"

Her head shook minutely; her eyes closed in a slow blink. "This is..."

"Yes," he smiled, "yes, it is."

Zoe looked at him, her eyes bright with wonder and tears. "She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

 _Oh_. The Doctor thought, surprised, even as the TARDIS swelled with appreciation.

That wasn't the typical response.

"How – how do you get the outside around the inside?" She asked, head turning every which way she could get it to turn. "Is this everythin' or is there more? Where does she get her power from? What makes her travel in time? Why –?"

The Doctor cut her off with a laugh, taking her shoulders in his hands. She felt fragile and hollow as though made of glass beneath his touch even though her human warmth seeped into his palms. "I will answer every question your lovely little human brain can think of, but right now we have something we need to be doing."

"We do?" She asked before remembering. "Oh, yeah! Aliens in the Thames." Her eyes suddenly went wide, and she looked at his hands on her shoulders. "Oh my god, you're an alien!"

"Really?" He asked her, amused. "I'm the thing that freaks you out?"

She pressed her hands against his chest and pulled at his cheeks, stretching them out. She tugged on his ears. "You look human."

"Oi, you look Time Lord, thank you very much," he said, batting her hands away and moving to the console.

"Time Lord?" She repeated, following him. "That's your...species?" He nodded, fiddling with the console. "Bit pretentious, innit? Was Time Kings taken or something?"

He ignored that question that was half a dig, half-honest curiosity. "You might want to hold onto something."

"What?"

She was thrown off her feet when he began to pilot the TARDIS. He tried not to enjoy her yelps of surprise and pain too much but it was hard. She groaned from the floor, looking a little green around the edges. "You're an arse."

The Doctor grinned down at her. "You'll get used to me."

The grumble that came from her was profane enough that he simply ignored her and let her ride out the roughness.

* * *

It took a while but Zoe eventually stopped throwing up.

The Doctor had landed the TARDIS in a supply closet at Albion Hospital but before he had been able to step outside to investigate, Zoe had bent double and vomited into the umbrella stand that he was now going to have throw into a supernova the first chance he got. Apparently, she suffered from motion sickness. In between wet heaves and pained groans, she told him that she even got sick on the number thirty-eight bus that took her to school so she normally walked there and back instead.

He wished he had known that before letting her into the TARDIS. He handed her a glass of water that he fetched for her and a self-cleaning mouth strip that filled her mouth full of white foam and made her eyes go wide.

"Wha' oo I oo?" She asked, barely comprehensible around the white foam.

"Spit," the Doctor advised, pointing at the ruined umbrella stand; she spat into it.

"Oh, minty fresh!" Zoe exclaimed delightedly, running her tongue across her teeth and baring them at him. "Much better than toothpaste."

"Yeah, toothpaste goes out of fashion in about 50 years," he said. "Feeling better?"

She nodded, looking a little embarrassed. "Sorry about the –"

He dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. "Should have thrown it out years ago; I keep tripping on it. If you've finished throwing up, you ready to go?"

She nodded her head and finished her glass of water, setting it on a nearby coral strut for lack of a better place. She followed him out of the TARDIS and walked straight into his back as it was a tight squeeze in the supply closet he'd landed them in. Between the two of them and the TARDIS it was amazing there was enough space to breathe let alone move. He pulled out a silver oblong object from his pocket and began fiddling with it. She peered over his shoulder at it, her body raised on the balls of her feet.

"What's that?"

"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor explained, speaking quietly. "Very handy."

"Why would you make a screwdriver sonic?"

"Because I was an awkward teenager and making a sonic screwdriver was easier than asking pretty girls out," he replied; she ducked her head and laughed, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Now hush up."

He activated the sonic and the noise was louder than Zoe's slight breaths of laughter. He hushed the screwdriver but continued to work the lock. It clicked open and he looked back smugly at Zoe who rolled her eyes but seemed to be enjoying herself, which made him happy; impressing humans was sometimes a little too easy but he did like doing it nonetheless. The door opened, and he swept his arm out to allow his possible-new friend to pass only to have her walk straight into a room of soldiers.

Zoe froze.

The soldiers froze.

The Doctor sighed.

A strangled sound of fear left Zoe's mouth when the soldiers scrambled for their weapons and pointed them at her and the Doctor. She raised her hands automatically, fear clenching in her stomach. Had she not just thrown up everything she had eaten that day, she was certain she would have been sick with fear just then. The Doctor opened his mouth to defuse the situation but a loud, terrified shriek of fear split the air.

"Defence plan delta!" He snapped, grabbing Zoe's hand from the air. "Come on! Move! Move! Move!"

"Hand!" Zoe yelled out as they sprinted down the hallway towards the source of the scream, leading a pack of heavily armed soldiers.

"Then keep up!" He replied, letting her hand go; he picked up the speed, leaving her chasing after him, heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't much of a runner really. She could walk for London, but running was not her cup of tea; however, she increased her pace as she refused to let the Doctor have the last word.

She entered a lab room right on his heels, breathing hard. A woman was slumped against the wall, bleeding from a deep cut in her head, the Doctor crouched at her side. He looked up and addressed the soldiers. "Spread out. Tell the perimeter it's a lock down."

"It's alive," the woman whispered, pale and shaking. "It's still alive."

The Doctor's eyes flashed at the soldiers who lingered. "Do it!"

"I swear," she breathed, eyes not fully focused. "It was dead."

"Coma, shock, hibernation. It could be anything," the Doctor said rapidly. "What does it look like?"

A metal tray clattered behind them. Zoe spun around, heart slamming against her chest. "It's still here."

The Doctor said something but Zoe didn't hear him over the sound of her blood rushing through her ears. She inched forwards. The sound of metal rattling reached her, and she followed the noise to a metal filing cabinet that had been shoved at an angle. Tongue slick with adrenaline and fear, she peered around the edge of the filing cabinet. Her breath stuck in her throat, and her vision swam. A terrified pig-like creature dressed in a spacesuit stared up at her, cloven feet scrambling against the linoleum floor in an attempt to get away from her. Its body slammed into her calf as it careened past her.

"Doctor!"

She chased after the creature but she was too late. A gunshot rent the air and by the time that she came upon it, the poor creature was dead in the Doctor's arms. His face looked as though it had been carved from stone he was so angry. The soldier who fired the shot wisely retreated back into the flickering darkness of the hospital corridor. Eventually, the Doctor gathered the dead creature in his arms and rose to his feet, carrying the body back to the mortuary. Zoe followed him, feeling a little light headed at how quickly everything was happening.

"It's so small," she whispered, reaching out a tentative, shaking hand; she gently stroked its cooling head after the Doctor had placed it on an examination table. He scanned the corpse with his screwdriver. "What species is it?"

He checked the readings from his screwdriver. A look of disgust flittered across his face. "It's a pig."

Her fingers froze on its head, and she looked at him. "I'm sorry?"

"It's a pig," he repeated, "from Earth."

She shook her head. "I don't understand. It came from the Thames. We saw it bein' removed from the water."

"I don't understand either, and I don't like that. Not today," the Doctor said darkly before he cleared his face and mood for Zoe's benefit. "Think of it like a mermaid. Victorian showmen used to draw the crowds by taking the skull of a cat, gluing it to a fish, and calling it a mermaid. Now –" he heaved a sigh, "now someone's taken a pig, opened up its brain, stuck bits on, and strapped it into that ship and made it dive bomb." He looked sad and ancient. "It must have been terrified."

Zoe pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as she processed her disgust. "But the technology? Is that Earth technology or alien?"

"Definitely alien."

"Then aliens are faking aliens," she said, confused. "Why?"

"That's what we're going to find out," he told her, dropping his screwdriver into his pocket. "Come on."

The Doctor had extremely long legs, and Zoe had to hurry to keep up with him. They made it back to the TARDIS without meeting anyone else. He took the umbrella stand full of her vomit and left it in the supply closet. It saved him a trip to a supernova and annoyed the military all at the same time: a perfect solution. He stalked up the ramp to the console and set the TARDIS in motion again. This time, prepared as she was by previous experience, Zoe just lay down flat on the grating and covered her eyes with her hands.

The journey was more bearable on the grating, but it still made her groan with every jolt and lurch. "Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"

"Yep," he said, popping the p as he stepped over her. "Why? Don't like my driving?"

"I hate you," she groaned, drawing a laugh from him, but the TARDIS eventually settled down and she realised that they had landed.

He looked down at her, concerned. "Are you going to throw up again?"

"Don't think so."

"Good," he offered her a hand up. "Then come look at this. While you were keeping your stomach contents where they should be, I was running some scans."

"I thought you were flyin'."

"I can do two things at once."

"Your umbrella stand says otherwise," Zoe replied, and he gave her a look that was a mixture between unimpressed professor and disapproving father. She grinned at him. "Come on then, show me the thing."

The Doctor pulled the computer screen around; post-it notes with gorgeous swirled images drawn in ink were stuck on the edge. He didn't get a chance to start explaining the screen to her that showed a flight path because the door opened and Rose streamed in with Mickey on her heels and – _oh._

Jackie.

"All right, so I lied," the Doctor said, not looking up. "I went and had a look – took Zoe too – but the whole crash landing's a fake. I thought so. It was just too perfect. I mean, hitting Big Ben? Come on. So I thought, let's go and have a look."

Zoe looked away from her mother who seemed on the verge of a panic attack and to the Doctor. "Wait, the landin's a fake too?"

"Yeah."

"Fake landin'? Fake alien?" She clarified, and he nodded before he realised that Rose hadn't entered the TARDIS alone.

His face exploded with annoyance. "Oh, that's just what I need." He pointed a finger at Rose. "Don't you dare make this place domestic."

Mickey strode forward angrily. Zoe looked away, ashamed at how she had turned a blind eye to his treatment over the last year. She had done nothing to stop Jackie's angry vendetta against him in her belief that he had done something to Rose that she had just locked herself away in her bedroom with her books and tried to pretend that nothing had changed. She slipped out from between the Doctor and the console – and if he was going to be around more in the future then she needed to have a word about personal space because the man didn't seem aware such a thing existed – and she moved towards her mother whilst Mickey and the Doctor went sniped back and forth.

"Mum?" Zoe said softly, reaching out and gently touching Jackie's arm just above her elbow. Jackie tore her eyes away from the inside of the TARDIS and looked at her, _horrified_ , not able to see the beauty that Zoe saw. "Mum, are you okay?"

When she spoke, her voice was a scared whisper and an anger swept through Zoe that surprised her. It took her a moment to realise it was anger towards the Doctor and Rose but she didn't know why and she didn't have the time to figure it out. "What's happenin'?"

"The Doctor is an alien," she said, working to keep her voice reassuring. "This is his ship. It's travels in space an' time. That's what Rose has been doin' for the last year. She's been travellin' in space an' time."

"No, I..." Jackie shook her head. but Zoe wrapped her hand around her arm and held her steady.

"Mum, _breathe,_ " she instructed, "it's okay. Just breathe."

"I can't," Jackie shook her head and wrenched her arm out of her daughter's grip and took off running.

"Mum!"

"Mum, wait!" Rose called, running down the ramp after her before hesitating in the doorway. "It's not – he's not – oh!" Frustration spilled over. "I'll be up in a minute. Hold on!"

"Woah!" Zoe said, catching Rose's arm as she went to run past her. "What are you doin'?"

"There's a fake alien, fake landin' in the Thames," Rose said, eyes bright with excitement. "I'm goin' to find out about it."

"You are goin' to talk to our mother!" Zoe said, and it was only when the TARDIS fell silent that she realised she had got a little shrill. "Rose, for fuck's sake, you idiot! Mum just finds out that you ran away with an alien an' you're not goin' to talk to her?"

She understood why she was angry now: the Doctor and Rose didn't realise how difficult the last year had been. They waltzed in and expected everyone to be okay with no explanations and no apologies and just to accept the weirdness of their relationship and the Doctor's entire existence. Zoe pulled her sister down the ramp and shoved her out of the TARDIS.

"Mum. Now."

"Zoe –"

" _Now_!"

Rose backed off. " _Jesus_! Fine. Whatever."

Zoe turned around. The Doctor and Mickey were both staring at her. She focused on the Doctor. "Got a problem?"

He shook his head and spoke quickly. "Nope, absolutely not."

"Good." She tugged on her jacket and walked up the ramp, stopping before Mickey. She looked up into his familiar face, guilt gnawing at her. "Mickey, I –"

"It's fine," he shook his head, familiar smile creeping onto his face.

"No, it's not fine," she replied. "I'm sorry for everythin'. I should've – I never really believed you did anythin' to hurt Rose. I just...it was easier to pretend that nothin' was happenin'. I should've stopped mum from doin' what she did. I should've spoken up for you. I'm really sorry I didn't. You deserved better than that an' I'm sorry."

Mickey opened his arms and Zoe stepped into them, wrapping her arms around his waist, pressing her face into his shoulder. He had been in her life for as long as she could remember. He'd been her best protector after Rose when she'd been a tiny child who was considered odd by the other children because she liked to read in a corner at playtime instead of joining in the games. He would always sit with her and make her laugh and braid her hair, and her stomach swirled with guilt over what she had done.

He kissed the top of her head and let go.

They both ignored the Doctor who was watching them less subtly than he had probably intended. "So, fake alien, fake landin'...fake spaceship?"

"No, real spaceship," the Doctor said, choosing to ignore what had just happened by filing it under human domesticity.

"Aliens fakin' aliens who also fake a crash landin'," Zoe listed. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Could be an invasion."

"Funny way to invade," Mickey said, arms folded. "Putting the whole world on alert."

"Good point," the Doctor said although it looked as though he was pained to acknowledge it. "So what are they up to?"

"Well, it's like in all the films an' sci-fi books, isn't it?" Zoe said as though it was obvious. "Aliens come to Earth an' invade because they want our resources. Do they want water?"

The Doctor frowned at her. "Why would they want water?"

"They always want water."

"Water is more prevalent in the universe than you humans think," he replied. "Now, hush up. I need to think."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Zoe was sat on the comfortable jump seat that was attached to a metal railing that encircled the raised control panel and time rotor. Her legs were folded beneath her – she had tried to rest them on the console but the Doctor pushed them off with a stern glare and a short lecture about putting her dirty feet on his things. She was watching Mickey channel hop on the scanner; it looked as though it was once a TV that had been repurposed and then stuck onto the control system a little haphazardly. As a matter of fact, the closer she looked, the more chaotic the control centre of the TARDIS seemed. She liked it but she had always imagined that alien spaceships would be a little more sleek than the grab bag that the TARDIS appeared to be.

Still, at least the scanner picked up all the channels on Earth, and some decidedly not human ones that quickly caught her attention. She made Mickey pause on a channel showing an alien soap opera. It looked very dramatic as a person was having both heads slapped.

"Tell me again," she requested when she finally tore her eyes away from the soap opera and back to the Doctor, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Fine," he sighed, less put out than he sounded. "It stands for Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

"It's a bit wordy, innit?" She said. "Hello, I'm the Doctor, an' this is my ship – Time and Relative Dimension in Space."

"Hence the acronym," he said pointedly ,and she pressed her lips together to hide her smile.

He was fun to poke at with her words.

"TARDIS," she repeated the word, wrapping her mouth around it and dragging it out. "TAR-DIS. I like it. It sounds magical."

"How many channels do you get?" Mickey asked, interrupting their conversation even as he continued to tweak the scanner.

The Doctor leaned against the railing near Zoe. "All the basic packages."

"You get the sport channels?"

"Yes, I get the football," he replied with a mocking glance; Zoe couldn't imagine him watching the football on a Sunday, not when he had all of time and space to explore. He suddenly straightened up with a small frown. "Hang on, I know that lot."

Mickey turned the volume up. _"It is looking likely that the government's bringing in alien specialists - those people who have devoted their lives to studying outer space._ "

"UNIT," he said, pleased.

"Who are they when they're at home?" Zoe asked, tilting her head back to look at him.

"Unified Intelligence Taskforce," he said. "Good people."

"How d'you know them?" She asked but, surprisingly, it was Mickey who answered.

"'Cos he worked for them," Mickey said, and even the Doctor looked a little taken aback. "Oh yeah, don't think I sat on my backside for the last twelve months, Doctor. I read up on you. You look deep enough on the Internet or in the history books, an' there's his name. Followed by a list of the dead."

 _That_ struck home.

The Doctor scowled and immediately turned patronising. "That's nice. Good boy, Ricky."

"If you know them, why don't you go an' help them?" Zoe asked. "Instead of flickin' through channels with us?"

"They wouldn't recognise me," he replied, "I've changed a lot since the old days." He sighed and looked at his console, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "Besides, the world's on a knife-edge right now. There's aliens out there and fake aliens. We cant to keep this alien out of the mix." He made his decision. "I'm going undercover, and – er – I'd better keep the TARDIS out of sight. Ricky, you've got a car. You can do some driving."

Zoe slid from the jump seat, excitement pinching at her. "Where to?"

"The roads are clearing," he said with a grin. "Let's go take a look at that spaceship."

"Brilliant!" She said, delighted at the prospect. "Two spaceships in one day. Any chance we can stop for chips on the way though? I'm hungry."

The Doctor laughed and was about to agree because he wouldn't mind some chips as well when they walked straight into a helicopter spotlight. The light swept across them and nearly blinded the humans at his side. Zoe tried to step back into the TARDIS but she was too far gone and only succeeded in stepping on the Doctor's toes. His hands grabbed her elbows to support her as police swirled around them and, for the second time that day, Zoe had guns pointed at her.

Fear slammed back into her.

"Do not move!" An officer shouted over the sound of the helicopter rotor and the wind that the blades were kicking up. "Step away from the box and raise your hands above your heads!"

Police cars and armoured personnel surrounded them; there were raised voices as officers kept barking orders at them. There was too much noise, and it was confusing and overwhelming. Panic gripped at Zoe's chest and she made a sound of tight fear in her throat. The Doctor pulled her back and angled his body in front of her; she appreciated it even though she hated herself for needing his protection. Then again, it wasn't as though guns were pointed at her everyday. If he wanted to take the bullets instead of her, she was happy to let him play the chivalrous hero.

Something knocked her shoulder, a brief flare of pain cutting through the fear, and she watched as Mickey sprinted past them, dashing through the crowd of police, skilfully evading their hands until he disappeared into the darkness. Zoe heard familiar voices pushing through the wave of noise; she looked around, her hands raised up over her head, and saw her mother and sister trying to get through the crush of people to her and the Doctor.

"Zoe!" Jackie screamed even as Rose called for the Doctor. An officer grabbed Jackie around the waist. "Zoe! No! Let me go! That's my daughter!"

"Mum!" Zoe called back and automatically made towards her but a gun was thrust in her face only for her vision to be obscured by black leather as the Doctor put himself between her and the gun.

"Oi," the Doctor warned, voice rumbling. "Leave it."

"Doctor," a tall thin man, who looked as though he had been bred to be the poster child for Generic Human, approached them. "If you and your companion will come this way."

Now it was obvious that she wasn't about to be shot, courage wormed its way back into her chest.

She lowered her hands slowly, eyes cautious. "Yeah, not his companion, mate."

The man ignored her and led them to a car a few feet away. The Doctor held the door open for her, and she slid onto the comfortable back seat. He lumbered in after her, looking excited, tugging on his jacket. She wasn't at all surprised that he found having guns pointed at him and being forced into a dark, unmarked car exciting.

"So, I take it we're not being arrested?" Zoe asked, heart pounding furiously in her chest, but it was beginning to slow and return to normal.

"Nah, we're being escorted," he said, beaming at her. "To Downing Street."

Zoe groaned and let her head fall back, the adrenaline making her loopy. "I just want chips an' an alien spaceship. I don't want politicians."

"I'm sure they'll have food there," he said, patting her thigh reassuringly. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he pulled back his hand quickly. "Come on, this is an exciting day for you! Aliens, spaceships, and now Downing Street. Beats a normal day, doesn't it?"

"I refuse to answer that question because I don't want to give you the satisfaction of bein' right," she said mulishly, drawing a laugh from him. "Why are we goin' to Downing Street?"

"I hate to say it," the Doctor admitted, "but Mickey was right. Over the years, I've visited this planet a lot of times and I've been... _noticed._ "

"But you blend in so well."

"Exactly – oh, wait, you're mocking me."

She smiled. "You catch on quick. So they want you to what? Advise?"

"Probably," he replied. "Like it said on the news. They're gathering expects in alien knowledge, and who's the biggest expert of the lot?"

"Patrick Moore."

"Apart from him."

"You're not particularly modest, are you?" She observed.

The Doctor dismissed her statement with a vague, uncaring wave of a hand.

"Let me tell you something, back in the day, Lloyd George used to drink me under the table." He looked back to her. "Who's the Prime Minister now anyway?"

"Richard Chalmers," she said. "Labour Party. Won on a small majority on an anti-war platform last year."

The Doctor nodded. "I like the sound of him."

She settled back in her seat and watched as London passed by. Her fingers were tingling from the excitement and fear of the last few minutes, and her mouth tasted odd: old pennies and the tang of blood. "Don't agree with war?"

"No."

"Me neither," she said, peering up at the night's sky. She wasn't able to see much. The light pollution in London always cloaked the sky in an orange-hued darkness. "People always talk about just wars but I'm not sure any war is just. It's all just a bunch of people dyin' because another bunch of people are makin' decisions in a locked room."

She scratched behind her ear and looked around at him. He was being suspiciously quiet, and she paused at the unreadable expression on his face. She felt unsettled but pushed through it. "Go on then, tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Do humans ever get out into the universe?" She asked. "Properly like. You know, past the solar system? Maybe out of the Milky Way?"

"Oh, yeah, you lot, you're like the plague, you reach every corner," the Doctor said, and she looked happy at the confirmation. "Surprisingly, humans are compatible with pretty every species out there so there's always some strain of humanity there."

"That's nice to know," she said before falling silent, watching London pass by on their journey to Downing Street.

She had lived in London all her life but never really visited the centre of London. It was widely acknowledged as being for tourists and school trips amongst the people she lived close to. She remembered going on a school trip to visit the Houses of Parliament when she was seven; she had got lost in the corridors and a janitor had to escort her back to her group before they realised she had gone missing. One Christmas, Jackie took her and Rose to see A Christmas Carol at the National Theatre, having got her hands on some cheap tickets. Zoe had eaten too much popcorn and ended up vomiting on the night bus home; the driver had been furious and had made them walk the rest of the way. Despite the fact that Zoe was sick and crying and it had been very cold, it had been a good night.

They arrived at Downing Street to the brilliant white flashes of cameras. Zoe climbed out of the car after the Doctor and tried to keep her face hidden. She hadn't washed her hair that morning as she had planning to do, distracted as she was by her sister's return and the strange alien with her; she was vain enough to definitely did not want a picture of her in the newspapers and on the Internet with grungy hair and her charity shop denim jacket littered with buttons.

They were ushered into the home of the British Prime Minister and shown through to a room where scientists and military personnel and politicians were all gathered, milling around and looking important. Zoe looked around for some food and found a plate of sandwiches on one side. She slipped away from the Doctor and grabbed a couple, biting into one and chewing eagerly. She found her way back to him and offered a sandwich between her fingertips. He took it from her and peeled the bread back to see what was inside before he bit down on it. His face drew back in an expression of disgust, and he pushed the egg salad back out of his mouth. It fell onto the floor between them. She looked down at it and then back up at him, taken aback by his manners.

"Don't like egg mayo, do you?"

"Not any more," he replied, trying to scrape the taste of it out of his mouth. "Used to, but my mouth's all different now."

She stared at him. "Am I supposed to understand that?"

He gave her his bitten egg sandwich. Since she wasn't afraid of alien germs, she bit into it after finishing her own. It didn't take long for someone to enter the room. Zoe stuffed the last bite of the Doctor's discarded sandwich into her mouth and chewed quickly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, can we convene?" A man asked with a voice raised to be heard over the general din. "Quick as we can. It's right this way, on the right. May I also remind you that ID cards are to be worn at all times." He turned to the Doctor and held out an ID. "Here's your ID card. I'm sorry though, your companion doesn't have clearance."

"Not his companion," Zoe pointed out but both of them ignored her.

The Doctor shook his head. "I don't go anywhere without her."

"You're the code nine, not her," the man, Ganesh, replied, looking stressed and stretched thin. "I'm sorry, Doctor. She'll have to stay outside."

"She's saying with me," the Doctor said firmly.

"Look, even I don't have clearance to go in there," Ganesh argued, frustration rising up his throat and painting itself across his words. "I can't let her in there and that's a fact."

"Doctor, it's fine," Zoe interrupted before they could go back and forth again. "You go."

"You sure?" He asked her as a middle-aged woman hurried over and tried to speak to them but Ganesh sidestepped her and drew her off course.

"Yeah.," she nodded. "I doubt I'd be much use in there. Besides, the sandwiches are out here."

The Doctor nodded and patted her shoulder. "All right. Stay out of trouble."

"I'm not Rose," she called to his retreating back. "I don't go looking for it!"

He just raised his hand and waved at her over his head. Ganesh turned to her. "I'm going to have to leave you with security."

"It's all right," the older woman said, collecting herself. "I'll look after her." Ganesh looked doubtful but the woman took Zoe's arm. "Walk with me. Just keep walking. Don't look around." Her voice was deliberately calm, and it set Zoe's stomach churning. She just wanted the sandwiches. "Harriet Jones. MP Flydale North."

"You know, I'm good to wait next to the sandwiches," she said, trying to extricate herself as Harriet Jones drew her into a side room.

"This friend of yours –"

"Not really a friend but go on."

"He's an expert, right? In alien things?"

"So he says," Zoe replied. "Why d'you want to know?"

Harriet's face wobbled and then she burst into tears. Zoe let out a sound of surprise but, used to Jackie's emotional fragility over the last year, she moved quickly. She gathered Harriet in her arms and let the other woman cry on her shoulder, her body tight with fear and confusion that Zoe tried to soothe out of her by rubbing calming circles on her back. It always worked well with Jackie, and she was pleased to see that it was apparently universally applicable; although, she was making that assumption based on a sample size of two, so she wasn't sure it was a particularly scientific analysis. Eventually Harriet settled down, and Zoe stretched to steal some tissues from a box sitting on a table.

She offered them to Harriet.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," she sniffed, wiping away her smudged mascara. "You must think I'm very silly."

"Not really," Zoe assured her. "I think it's been a long day for everyone." She looked around the room but it seemed to be a standard greeting room. "Shame there's no tea about. My mum swears by tea. Says it can cure anythin'. Why don't you tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help."

"It's – oh, I don't know where to start. It's all so strange."

"Let's sit down first," Zoe suggested, but Harriet shook her head, looking and feeling stronger after her little cry.

"No, no, if your friend really is an expert then he'll want to see this," Harriet said, moving towards the door.

Zoe followed her reluctantly. She really didn't want to go looking for trouble but she wasn't sure how to extract herself without being rude. She faltered outside the doors when she realised that Harriet had led her into the cabinet room. Her steps took on a decidedly cautious air as though expecting MI5 to burst in on her with guns.

Although, considering the way that her day had been going, she thought she might soon be three for three.

"I was in here, in the cupboard, when the cabinet assembled," Harriet began.

"Why were you –?" Zoe said before shaking her head. "Never mind. Not important. Please, continue."

"But – but they weren't the important cabinet members," Harriet explained. "At least, not all of them. Not the people you'd expect. As soon as they were left alone, they started talking and laughing, joking about all of this, and then – and then –"

She trailed off into a sob. Unable to say any more, she opened the cupboard door and pulled out a floppy rubber suit and placed it on the table. Zoe didn't understand what she was meant to be looking at. Harriet held it up by the shoulders. A rubber face flopped forward. She recoiled as surprise, disgust, and fear mingled within her.

"They opened up their foreheads and this – this _alien_ came out. It was big and green and it was wearing this suit –" Harriet shook the suit that Zoe was rapidly coming to understand _wasn't rubber_.

"Aliens are wearin' people?" She asked, her mind swirling with the new information.

Aliens faking aliens, faking a crash landing, impersonating British politicians. It demanded the question of why?

Harriet's eyes flashed. "It happened!"

"I believe you, it's alright," Zoe said. "I believe you it's just...why?" She looked at the suit in Harriet's hands. "There must be somethin' in here that explains this. Help me look."

The cabinet room wasn't actually particularly large. There was space enough for the table and a few side boards but Zoe got down on her hands and knees to check under the desks and chairs. She needn't have bothered though. Harriet opened the cupboard in the corner and let out a scream of terror when the Prime Minister of Great Britain fell out on top of her, his dead body thudding to the ground. Zoe hit her head on the underside of the table at Harriet's screams, and she crawled her way out from under there, eyes wide as she stared at Richard Chalmers.

The stunned silence was broken by Ganesh striding into the room. "Harriet, for God's sake, this has gone beyond a – oh my god! That's the Prime Minister!"

Zoe's mind went completely blank. The only dead things she had ever seen were pigeons and the space pig earlier that day; a dead human was something completely different. Her stomach flipped over, and she stayed on her knees. A sound at the door had them all turning their heads. A large, blonde woman stood framed in the doorway, sharply amused.

"Oh dear," she cooed in a sickly sweet voice, "has somebody been naughty?"

Zoe pushed herself to stand on weak legs. Ganesh shook his head back and forth. "This is impossible. He left this afternoon. He was driven away!"

"And who told you that?" The woman asked with a soft, unpleasant chuckle. Her fleshy lips spread into a smile that sent ice water down Zoe's spine. "Me."

She reached up to her hairline; Zoe watched, horrified, as she pulled a zipper open and a brilliant bright light spilt out. She reeled back, shielding her eyes, and watched as the flesh suit was pushed down. A huge green alien emerged from within the suit that should, by all rights, be too small for it. It towered over them, clawed hands raised up, black eyes large and round, incongruous on its baby like face. Zoe wanted to scream but she had no breath in her lungs to be able to do so. She was frozen in place, terror like she had never felt before coursing through her veins.

The alien laughed, and Zoe wanted to be anywhere but in the cabinet room. The alien lunged for Ganesh but Zoe reached him first. She grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him backwards. She took hold of Harriet's hand and threw them both towards the door in front of her.

"RUN!"

Ganesh didn't need telling twice. He took off at a sprint and left Zoe and Harriet behind him as the alien creature roared with anger at being temporarily evaded. She hoped Ganesh was going for help but realised they couldn't count on it.

She made to go down the hall but Harriet doubled back. "What are you doin'?"

"The emergency protocols!" Harriet exclaimed. "They're still in there!"

"Forget them!" She cried, and Harriet would have ignored her had the alien not burst out of the doorway, long dangerous arms waving wildly around, knocking priceless art from the wall. "Harriet, _run_!"

They had the advantage of being smaller and slimmer than the alien. It allowed them to run faster, and they took the stairs two at a time before Harriet pulled her into a room with two sofas and a desk. It was the poshest room Zoe had ever been inside of; she had no chance to give more than a cursory glance to her surroundings before she hissed at Harriet to hide, throwing her own body behind the cabinet whilst Harriet slipped into the folds of the curtains. Zoe was certain that everyone in the building could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She breathed deep and held her breath when she heard the alien enter the room, its feet brushing across the floor with surprising lightness.

A whispered hiss passed through the air.

"Oh, such fun. Little human children. Where are you?" Zoe closed her eyes and tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. "Sweet little children. Come to me. Let me kiss you better."

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and bit down hard so that she could focus on the sharp sting of pain instead of her overwhelming fear. To her horror, she heard more of the aliens enter the room; the whispering hiss increased in volume.

The female spoke. "My brothers."

"Happy hunting?" One of the males asked, and it was strange to hear human voices emerge from creatures she knew were decidedly not human.

"It's wonderful," the female purred. "The more you prolong it, the more they stink."

"Sweat and fear."

"I can smell an old girl," the other male said, and Zoe wanted to cry because she could hear them getting closer and there was nothing she could do except stay hidden and silent. "Stale bird and brittle bones."

"And a ripe youngster," the female whispered as though salivating and a tear slid down Zoe's cheek. "All hormones and adrenaline. Fresh enough to bend before she _snaps_."

Zoe screamed. The sound started deep in her chest and burst out of her, riding the wave of her consuming terror, as the strange baby-face appeared around the cabinet to stare at her with its shiny black eyes.

"No!" Harriet cried, wrenching back the curtain and throwing herself forwards. "Take me first! Take me!"

Zoe didn't have time to appreciate the selfless act of bravery because the Doctor kicked the door open and burst in with a fire extinguisher held securely in his hands. He sprayed the closest male with the CO2 from within; it fell back, screaming in pain. "Out! With me!"

She pushed the cabinet as hard as she could with her back against the wall and her foot against it, and it fell onto the female. Zoe scrambled over it, grasping hold of Harriet's outstretched hand, which helped to pull her the rest of the way. They left the room, tripping over their feet whilst the Doctor guarded their escape. He slammed the door shut behind them and broke the handle off the door with the base of the extinguisher. He looked around to find Zoe white-faced and terrified but otherwise unharmed.

"Who the hell are you?" The Doctor asked Harriet, who was panting hard; he had heard her offer herself in place of Zoe, and he appreciated that type of bravery.

"Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

Zoe came back to herself as the wood started to splinter beneath the aliens attempts to get out. "Guys, run!"

"We need to head to the cabinet room," the Doctor said, keeping at the back of the group so as to offer some protection from the rapidly approaching aliens that had easily broken free of their temporary prison.

If she hadn't thought so before, his words would have just confirmed his madness to Zoe who twisted her head over her shoulder to look at him incredulously as they ran down the stairs to the lower level. "We need to head for the fuckin' exit!"

"No, the Emergency Protocols are in there!" Harriet replied, speaking breathlessly as they ran. "They give instructions for aliens."

"Harriet Jones," the Doctor grinned, "I like you."

Harriet blushed pink. "I like you too."

"Wonderful, we all like each other," Zoe snapped as the aliens could be heard getting closer and closer to them. "But we should still head for the exit!"

"Turn right!"

She made a sharp right turn, bouncing of the wall when she lost her footing as the rubber sole of her trainer twisted beneath her – she really needed new trainers – and burst into the cabinet room. The Prime Minister's body was still on the floor and there was a gash in the painting where the female alien had torn at it. She only just managed to stop herself in time to avoid slamming into the table. She skidded to a halt and knocked into the wall instead; she was going to be covered in bruises by the time she got home.

The Doctor snatched up a decanter of port from the side board and held it up, his sonic screwdriver glowing blue against it.

"One more move and my sonic device will triplicate the flammability of this alcohol," he threatened, his body blocking the entrance to the room. Zoe edged forwards, feeling her way along the wall to stand a few feet behind him. " _Whoof_ , we all go up. So back off!"

The aliens paused, uncertain, but they all took one step back in the outer office. The tension in the Doctor's shoulders eased slightly. "Right then. Question time. Who exactly are the Slitheen?"

Harriet was at his side. "They're aliens."

"Yes, I got that, thanks."

"Who are you?" The male asked. "If not human?"

Harriet looked around. "Who's not human?"

Zoe pointed at the Doctor. "He's not human."

"He's not human?"

"Can I have a bit of hush?" The Doctor asked, looking between them; Harriet mouthed the word _sorry_ at him. "So what's the plan?"

"But he's got a Northern accent," Harriet said, unable to keep the comment within herself, and Zoe looked at the Doctor.

"Actually, good point," she agreed. "Why d'you sound like you're from the North?"

"Lot's of planets have a north," he said exasperatedly, "and I said _hush._ " Zoe and Harriet pressed their lips together in order to remain silent. "Come on. You've got a spaceship hidden in the North Sea. It's transmitting a signal. You've murdered your way to the top of the government. What for? Invasion?"

That was a lot of information to take in under ten seconds.

The male Slitheen scoffed. "Why would we invade this god-forsaken rock?"

"Then something's brought the Slitheen race here," the Doctor said. "What is it?"

The male laughed. "The Slitheen race?"

"Slitheen is not our species," the other male said. "Slitheen is our surname." He gave a little mocking bow. "Jocrassa Fel Fotch Pasameer-Day-Slitheen, at your service."

The Doctor made a small sound of understanding. "So, you're a family."

"A family business," he said, pride seeping through his disturbingly human voice.

"Then you're out to make a profit," the Doctor concluded. "How can you do that on a god-forsaken rock?"

Zoe was amazed at how he whittled the questions down to find the right answers in the shortest amount of time. She wanted to take him to the library with her next time she needed to do research. She imagined he would be useful. Then again, given how smart he seemed to be, he might just have everything she needed in his head. The idea brightened her and then it dimmed: _references_. She couldn't exactly reference the Doctor in a bibliography; not if she wanted to pass her exams. When she realised what she was thinking about, she scolded herself at becoming distracted at such a time.

Large black eyes blinked at the Doctor, a creeping realisation appearing within. "Ah, excuse me? Your device will do what? Triplicate the flammability?"

The Slitheen had picked up on something that had passed Zoe and Harriet by. The Doctor's spew of scientific nonsense had been just that. _Nonsense._

"Oh..." the Doctor said, and Zoe felt a sinking sensation in her chest; she realised it was her hope falling out through her stomach. "Is that what I said?"

"You're making it up!"

The alien sounded so insulted that the Doctor would lie to him that Zoe found herself inexplicably near laughter. The alien's baby face didn't show expressions as human faces did but its tone was more than enough to paint a vivid picture of how it was feeling.

"Ah, well, nice try," he concluded, holding the bottle towards Harriet. "Harriet, have a drink. I think you're going to need it."

Harriet didn't take it. "You pass it to the left first."

"Sorry."

"Thanks," Zoe said, taking the bottle and drinking deep from it.

Port was, and always would be, absolutely disgusting but her options were rather limited at that moment.

The male stepped forward, stretching and flexing its large body. Its stomach, which was round and large, didn't ripple and wobble the way that a human stomach would. Its green flesh remained stretched taut across its body. It sounded satisfied when it spoke again, as though certain it now had the upper hand. "Now we can end this hunt with a slaughter."

"Doctor," Zoe said, fingers tight around the neck of the port bottle as she set it down on the sideboard for fear of dropping it. "Far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, but don't you think we should run 'round about now?"

"Fascinating history, Downing Street," the Doctor said, apropos of nothing. "2000 years ago, this was marsh land; 1730, it was occupied by a Mr Chicken." He looked at Zoe, addressing her conversationally. "He was a nice man." His attention returned to the Slitheen. "1796, this was the cabinet room. If the cabinet's in session, and in danger, these are about the four most safest walls in the whole of Great Britain." He grinned. "End of lesson."

The Doctor lifted a small panel by the door and pressed a button. Zoe jumped as thick metal shutters crashed down across the windows and the door, sealing them in. He turned to face Harriet and Zoe and smiled at them, pleased. "Installed in 1991. Three inches of steel lining every single wall. They'll never get in."

Zoe and Harriet shared a look.

Zoe looked up at the Doctor. "An' how do you propose we get out, oh wise one?"

His smile froze on his face. "Ah."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Being locked in the cabinet room gave Zoe a sense of security that had been missing when she had run for her life through the halls of Downing Street. They couldn't get out but, more importantly, the Slitheen couldn't get in either. The fear that had been an almost constant companion since that morning began to fade from her body; although, she wasn't certain that her heart rate was ever going to return to normal. It pounded a violent bruise against her the inside of her chest making her regret the large mouthful of port as it churned in her stomach unpleasantly. Her nausea was not helped by the fact that the Doctor was dragging the body of the late prime minister across the floor to place him in the small cloak room off to the side.

Zoe turned around and rested her forehead against the cool metal of the shutters in the hope of blocking the sight from her memory.

It was all too much.

In that moment, with the dry drag of Richard Chalmers across the floor, everything that happened since Rose had strolled casually into the flat that morning became too much for her to bear. Her bravado left her. All the sharp retorts and quick comebacks and easy insults she had spouted all day just disappeared as quickly as a bulb blowing, leaving her tired and frightened. She felt tears burn at the back of her eyes. She squeezed them shut, breathing in as deeply as she could through her nose as her school mandated therapist had taught her; apparently, if one's sister was believed to have been violently murdered and then dismembered, one qualified for free therapy.

 _Aliens and spaceships and time travel._

It was all so wonderful but, at the same time, so utterly terrifying that she just wanted to lie down and cry before going to sleep.

A warm hand on her back made her jump. She spun around, fear spiking through her, but it was only the Doctor. His face was lined with concern. She quickly wiped the tears away, embarrassed at having been caught crying. "What?"

"Are you okay?" The Doctor asked quietly though she didn't know why he bothered; only Harriet was in the room, and she was politely ignoring them.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied badly. She used the sleeve of her denim jacket to dry her face. She tried to shake herself back together as quick as she could but once the tears started, it was hard for her to stop them. "Really, I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he said, and there was none of the antagonism that imbued his voice when he spoke to Mickey. He sounded kind and gentle, the type of person she'd be inclined to trust under normal circumstances. His soft tone reminded her of her Granddad Prentice and how he was always able to coax her out of her shell with gentle eyes and papery soft hands. "This is a lot. I'm sorry. I forget what it's like for people who aren't used to it."

"Yeah, well, I bet Rose didn't cry like a baby," Zoe muttered, wishing that she had an off-switch for her tear ducts. The Doctor dug in his pockets and found a clean, folded handkerchief that he handed to her. "Thanks."

"She didn't cry but she did yell at me," he said, and she looked up at him with large, wet eyes that played at his bruised and wounded heart. "I was being an idiot and so she yelled."

That brought a small smile to Zoe's face. "That sounds like Rose. She always yells first an' cries later. I cry first."

"And yell later?"

"No, no, just cry," she said, and he snorted. He looked down at her from under his eyelashes, and she felt compelled to be honest with him. "It's just...aliens. There are aliens in Downin' Street. Aliens who tried to kill me. I'm even talking to an alien right now."

"Yeah, but I'm a nice one."

She eyed his forehead. "You don't have one of those – those thingies, do you?"

She mimed unzipping her forehead.

He shook his head. "Nope. I am what I am."

"Good," Zoe said, "because I don't know if I can take more aliens poppin' out of people today. I'm definitely at my alien-in-human-bodies limit." The tears had finally stopped, and she dried her eyes again before folding the soft material and handing it back to him. "Thank you."

The Doctor gave her a small, honest smile and let himself look at her for the first time. He never paid much attention to people's physical appearance. Being a Time Lord, appearance was the least important thing about them, and they hadn't been a society that cared much for the outer shell. They were a people of words and ideas and time; they focused on those things rather than the casings that people were kept in. Zoe's words were bright and intelligent, passionate and brave, soft and loyal, angry and protective. Her devotion to her mother and the love she held for her sister, no matter how much Rose's absence and subsequent lies had hurt her, was palpable. Her timeline glittered and shone: a bright golden thread that spooled out into the future with endless possibilities.

It was intoxicating to feel a timeline so young.

She was young he realised, younger than he had first thought. The jacket she wore clearly belonged to someone older and bigger than she was because it dwarfed her slim body. Possibly a boyfriend's, he considered, but judging from the age of the denim, more likely a charity shop purchase or a family hand-me-down. Her eyes were bright and a fierce intelligence shone through, even though it was cloaked by uncertainty and fear at the moment. Their conversation earlier that day about the relativity of time passed through his mind again.

Her potential was untapped and, living in the century that she did in the circumstances she did as the youngest daughter of a struggling single mother on a council estate, the likelihood was that it would remain untapped. He hated the idea of a mind like hers atrophying in a shop or an office as she worked to earn enough money to live a halfway decent life. The teacher in him rebelled against that idea, and he wondered how she would have fared on Gallifrey if she had had the opportunities he had.

He doubted she would have wasted them like he had done.

"So," she said now that she had regained control of her face, "d'you have a plan that doesn't involve waitin' it out? Because if you don't, I suggest waitin' it out."

"No plan yet," the Doctor said, blues eyes lingering on her for a moment long enough for her to start to feel uncomfortable. He eventually looked away; Harriet, now certain their brief, private interlude was over, gave up the illusion of not paying attention. "Right. What have we got? Any terminals? Anything?"

Zoe was pleased that was a question she could answer.

"No, this place is antique." She dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out her Nokia phone. "I do have this though."

"Fantastic!" He exclaimed, snatching it from her hand without so much as a by your leave. "This'll work."

"You won't get a signal," Harriet warned him as he pried apart Zoe's phone, ignoring her protestations. She didn't exactly have spare cash to replace it; nor did Jackie, at least not with the way her appointments were drying up as a consequence of the painful cuts to benefits that had been pushed through around Christmas time. "Mobile networks won't penetrate the metal. It's to prevent cyber attacks."

The Doctor dismissed her concerns, removing his sonic screwdriver again. "I've got a trick."

"If you break it, you're buyin' me a new one," Zoe warned him, digging her hands into her pockets again. The buzz of the screwdriver threatened to unnerve her and so she kept talking, more to keep her nerves at bay rather than anything else. "Why didn't they use the prime minister?"

The Doctor didn't look up. "Hmm?"

"Why didn't they use his body?" She asked him. "It would make more sense to use him than whoever those people are." She winced and corrected her tense. "Sorry, _were_."

"He's too slim," he said, putting her phone back together with deft fingers. "They're big old beasts. They need to fit inside big humans."

"They're also 'bout eight-feet tall," Zoe pointed out, "but the suits are normal size."

"That's the device around their neck," he answered, rebooting her phone and finally looking up at them. "It's a compression field. It literally shrinks them down a bit. That's why there's all that gas. It's a big exchange." He paused briefly and looked over to Harriet. "Harriet Jones. I've heard that name before. You're not famous for anything, are you?"

Harriet scoffed. "Hardly. Lifelong backbencher I'm afraid. And a fat lot of use I'm being right now. The protocols are redundant. They list the people who could help and they're all downstairs."

Zoe finally sat down in one of the chairs, pleased to be off her feet. "Well, at least we know they can't get the nuclear codes."

Harriet looked at her, pleased. "You know about that?"

"I joined the march on Parliament a couple of years back," she explained, "an' I volunteer for the CND."

"Do you really?" She asked delighted. "How refreshing! How did you get involved?"

"A woman visited my school," Zoe explained, pleased to be talking about something relatively normal. "She was there to talk about human rights but because of the war we got to talkin' about nuclear weapons instead. After class, I stayed behind to talk about her an' she offered to take me to a meetin' that weekend. She's in Australia now, actually, that woman. Campaignin' for aboriginal rights, I think."

"Well," Harriet said, clearly pleased. "I am encouraged to see that the state educational system is turning out such delightful young women."

Zoe blushed even as the Doctor frowned, only half-paying attention. "CND?"

"Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament," Harriet explained with a smile at Zoe. "A very worthwhile cause. They helped put pressure on reticent MPs to vote for transferring the nuclear strike release codes to the UN."

"Say that again," he said, suddenly focused and the atmosphere in the room changed with him.

"What?" She said. "About the codes?"

"Anything," he replied, "all of it."

Harriet and Zoe exchanged a bemused look.

"Well, the British Isles can't gain access to atomic weapons without a Special Resolution from the United Nations," Harriet explained a little uncertainly, not sure what the Doctor wanted. "A necessary precaution given our past record with dangerous weapons, if you'll forgive the personal aside. The codes have been taken out of the government's hands and given to the UN. Is it important?"

"Everything's important."

"If only we knew what the Slitheen wanted," she sighed before pausing and shaking her head. "Listen to me, saying Slitheen like it's normal."

Zoe tipped her head towards her. "I know the feeling. This morning, I had no idea aliens existed an' now my sister's datin' one." The Doctor choked on his own saliva, but she ignored him. "What do they want though?"

"Well, they're just one family, so it's not an invasion," the Doctor said, ears burning red with embarrassment as he finished tinkering with Zoe's phone, his head down so that he didn't have to make eye contact with anyone. "They don't want Slitheen World. They're out to make money, which means they want to use something. Something here on Earth. Some kind of asset."

"I would like to revisit my previous suggestion of water," she said, raising her hand as though she was in a classroom. "Or maybe oil? Everyone wants oil?" A thought clicked in her mind. "Ooo, is there an element that can only be found on Earth?"

The Doctor stopped and looked at her, taking her in. "You know, you're really very good at all of this."

Zoe turned red but she managed a smile. "Thank you."

Her phone beeped in the Doctor's hands. She went to take it from him but he was already opening the message. "It's from Rose. Ah. Looks like they've encountered one of the Slitheen as well."

"What?" Zoe said, pushing up from her seat to peer over his shoulder. Rose had taken a picture of the alien and sent it to her, presumably so the Doctor could see it instead of just worrying her younger sister. "Is my mum okay? Oh, never mind, I'll call her. Can I call her now?"

"Yeah, you're phone's supercharged," he replied, keeping the phone out of her reach, which was easy to do as she was shorter than he was since she hadn't finished growing yet; she was still all gangly limbs and awkward height. "You'll get a signal anywhere in the universe but you can do the domestics later. Right now, I need to work."

"You say domestics, I say reassuring my mother I'm not dead," she snapped, irritation swelling towards him. It was amazing the emotional roller coaster he had taken her on that day: confusion to hatred to amazement to wonder to fear to gratitude to irritation. It was exhausting.

"Rose, are you okay?" The Doctor asked, the phone pressed against his ear; his eyes slid towards Zoe. "Your mother?" He gave Zoe a thumb's up, and she relaxed a little. "Listen, Rose, pass me to Mickey, would you? Yes, really. Is that Ricky? Don't talk, just shut up and go to your computer." He rolled his eyes. "Mickey the idiot, I might just choke before I finish this sentence but...I need you."

The Doctor scowled when Zoe barked a laugh. He rattled off a list of instructions to Mickey at such a rapid pace that no one had any hope of understanding him but that didn't prevent his exasperation at having to repeat himself. Once Mickey was set up on his PC in his perpetually untidy bedroom, he accessed the UNIT website. The Doctor relaxed a little now that things were in movement and they were moving towards some sort of resolution; what type he didn't yet know but he very rarely did. He was more of a make it up as he goes along type of man. He put Zoe's cheap Nokia into the conference room's speaker and pressed a button. The noise from Mickey's flat filled the room.

"Say again." he requested.

" _It's asking for the password,_ " Mickey repeated, voice clear and strong over the line, which was an improvement as Zoe had always had a fuzzy connection. It came from buying her phone from Sticky Fingers Brian down at the pub.

"Buffalo," the Doctor said, "two f's, one l."

"So what's this website then?" Zoe asked, nervously pulling at the rubber that peeled away from the soles of her trainers by rolling her foot against the grey carpet whilst she chewed on her thumbnail.

" _All the secret information known to mankind,"_ Mickey answered. _"See, they've known about aliens for years. They've just kept us in the dark."_

"Mickey, you were born in the dark," the Doctor said unkindly, and Zoe stretched her leg out to kick him in the thigh. "Ow!"

"Be nice," she threatened, earning a scowl.

" _Thanks,_ " Mickey said. _"Password again_."

"Just repeat it every time," the Doctor instructed before leaning back in his chair, absently rubbing at his thigh. "Big Ben...why did the Slitheen go and hit Big Ben?"

"You said to gather the experts," Harriet said, "to kill them."

The Doctor shook his head. "That lot would've gathered for a weather balloon. You don't need to crash land in the middle of London." He tapped his thigh with long fingers. "The Slitheen are hiding but then they put the entire planet on mauve alert."

Zoe blinked. "Beg pardon? Did you just say _mauve_ alert?"

"Universally recognised symbol for danger," he explained absently, leaving Zoe to process that information with interest. She wasn't actually sure what the colour mauve looked like but couldn't imagine it was as attention catching as red with a name like mauve.

" _What would they do that for?_ " Rose asked, thinking out loud. " _Why put the planet on red alert? Mauve alert? Whatever._ "

" _Oh, listen to her,"_ Jackie said dismissively, and Rose instantly bristled at that but her response was lost over the line.

Jackie sighed and when she spoke again, her voice was hard and angry and edged with the emotions that Zoe had lived with for the last twelve months.

" _Well, I've got a question, if you don't mind,_ " she said with biting sarcasm. _"Since that man walked into our lives, I have been attacked in the streets. I have had creatures from the pits of hell in my own livin' room, an' my daughter disappear off the face of the Earth._ "

Rose tried to interrupt but Jackie wouldn't let her.

" _I'm talkin' to him,"_ she said firmly. _"'Cos I've seen this life of yours, Doctor, and maybe you get off on it. Maybe you think it's all clever an; smart, but you tell me – just answer me this. Is my daughter safe?_ "

Zoe stared at the Doctor who was looking down at the polished surface of the table, steadfastly avoiding eye contact until suddenly, he wasn't. He met Zoe's eyes, and she breathed in sharply at the agelessness of his eyes. His appearance was that of a forty-something human but that was just it – an appearance. Beneath the surface of his life-worn skin, with its laughter lines that creased around his eyes and the stubble that was darkening his jaw, was something timeless that she didn't understand.

If she had been in doubt that he was an alien, his gaze in that moment swept it away.

He was more alien to her than the Slitheen outside the room.

" _Well,_ " Jackie demanded, breaking the moment. " _What's the answer?"_

The Doctor was spared from answering by Mickey who took the phone back from Jackie and pressed it to his ear. " _We're in_."

The change of subject was exactly what the Doctor had hoped for and he was grateful for it, even if it came from Mickey.

"Now then, on the left at the top, there's a tab, an icon," he said quickly. "Little concentric circles. Click on that."

" _What is it_?"

"The Slitheen have got a spaceship in the North Sea and it's transmitting that signal," he explained. "Now hush, let me work out what it's saying." There was silence in the cabinet room and in Mickey's flat as they let the Doctor listen. "It's some sort of message."

"What does it say?" Harriet asked, leaning forwards interestedly.

"Don't know," he said with a shrug, "but it's on a loop, keeps repeating." Mickey's doorbell rang. "Hush!" There was some commotion on the other end. "It's beaming out into space. Who's it for?"

Zoe looked down at her jacket and the metal badge that she was turning between her fingers, an unconscious habit. The Coca-Cola logo glinted under the room's lights. She had stolen the badge when she was seven from a market stall in Peckham. Rose and Shareen had dared her to do it; they had teased her mercilessly, driving her to tears, until she conceded. Her heart had been pounding in her mouth, and she hadn't been able to breathe properly because she was so afraid of getting caught and being sent to prison. In hindsight, she knew she wouldn't have been sent off to prison, or even arrested; the stall holder would have yelled at her and chased her off but she was seven at the time and used to believe everything that Rose told her.

The badge had caught her eye because it was December and the Coca-Cola advert had been playing for a couple of weeks. She liked the advert because of the song that accompanied the lit up lorry driving through the snow covered town and –

"Oh!" She said, startled as the answer slammed into her.

It was as though a light bulb had been switched on in her mind and flooded her thoughts with light, shining directly on the answer they had been looking for. The Doctor and Harriet jumped in surprise at her loud exclamation.

"It's an advert!" She told them with wide eyes and a bright face.

The Doctor stared at her, baffled. "What?"

Jackie's sudden scream tore across the line, preventing her from explaining herself, and Zoe's blood ran cold. Her mother's panicked voice spilt into the room. " _It's him! It's the thing! It's the Slipeen!"_

"They've found us," Mickey's voice was uncharacteristically serious.

"Just get out!" Zoe urged. "Get out!"

" _We can't,_ " he said, calm and focused despite everything. " _It's by the front door._ " He inhaled a sharp breath. " _It's unmasking. It's going to kill us._ "

"There's got to be some way of stopping them!" Harriet exclaimed as Zoe gripped the edge of the table, white with fear. "You're supposed to be the expert. Think of something!"

"I'm trying!" The Doctor said, fingers clenched into fists at his side.

The helplessness of being trapped so far away from the danger, unable to help, was not a feeling that sat well with him.

" _Jackie, Rose, I'll take it on,_ " Mickey said, and Zoe pressed her hands over her mouth, choking on the sob that pushed its way up out of her chest and lodged itself tight in her throat. " _You two just run. Don't look back. Just run_."

"Doctor, that's my family," Zoe said, her voice breaking.

He swept his eyes over her face and took in how heartbreakingly young she looked before he leapt into action.

"Right. Harriet, Zoe, if we're going to find a weakness, we need to find out where they're from, meaning which planet. So –" he clapped his hands together, "judging by their basic shape, it narrows it down to 5000 planets within travelling distance. What else do we know about them? Information!"

He clicked his fingers at them as though that would make them think quicker.

Surprisingly, it worked.

Zoe focused through her fear. "They're green."

"Yep, narrows it down."

Harriet caught on. "Good sense of smell."

"Narrows it down."

"They can smell adrenaline," she added.

Zoe clicked her fingers and shook them at the Doctor as she tried to get the words out of her mouth and into the space between them. "The pig technology!"

"Narrows it down. Narrows it down."

"The what technology?" Harriet asked, bewildered.

"Later," the Doctor said impatiently.

"The spaceship in the Thames," Zoe said, "you said it had a slipstream engine?"

Mickey called out with panic lacing his voice. _"It's getting in!_ "

"They hunt like it's a ritual," she continued, remembering the cold fear of the hunt and the slide of sweat down the length of her back.

The Doctor bared his teeth in a semblance of a grin. "Narrows it down."

"Wait a minute," Harriet said, holding up her hand. "Did you notice? When they fart – if you'll pardon the word – it doesn't just smell like a fart – if you'll pardon the word – it's something else. What is it? It's more like – er –"

Zoe's eyes shifted back and forth as she tried to place the smell. "Bad breath!"

"That's it!" Harriet clapped her hands together and bounced on her feet a little. "It's bad breath!"

"Calcium decay!" The Doctor cried out as the pieces started to lock into place in his mind. "Now _that_ narrows it down!" He closed his eyes and thought hard. "Calcium phosphate. Organic calcium. Living calcium. Creatures made out of living calcium. What else? What else?" He pressed his knuckles against the table. "Hyphenated surname. Yes! That narrows it down to one planet! Raxacoricofallapatorius!"

Zoe stared at him. "What?"

He ignored her. "Calcium weakened by the compression field. Acetic acid. Vinegar!"

Harriet laughed with exhilaration as she was caught up in the terrifying excitement of it all. "Just like Hannibal!"

"Just like Hannibal," The Doctor grinned breathlessly at her before leaning over the phone. "Rose, find vinegar. Quickly."

" _What do you need, Doctor_?" Rose's voice burst over the line as the door splintered in the background, and Jackie screamed again.

"Anything with vinegar," he said, "hurry."

The waiting and the listening was the worst.

The Doctor had done everything he could on his end and all the three of them could do was listen to the sounds of Mickey attacking the Slitheen with a baseball bat whilst Rose and Jackie emptied every food item with a hint of vinegar into a mixing bowl. Mickey cried out when he was thrown against the wall; Zoe flinched, hands shooting out, wanting to help. The Doctor reached for her, and she grasped his hand, holding onto him tightly as they listened to Rose as she grabbed the bowl filled with the contents of Mickey's vinegar-based food cupboards and rushed into the hallway where she proceeded to throw the contents over the Slitheen.

There was a brief moment of surprised silence when no one in either location dared to breath before a loud fart ripped through the air.

And then there was the unmistakable sound of something exploding like a taut balloon that had reached its breaking point. Jackie's loud shriek of disgust caused Zoe to slump forwards, relief turning her body to liquid. If she was screaming, she was still alive. The Doctor patted her back a little heavily letting out the breath that he was holding, exchanging relieved grins with Harriet. Zoe straightened up and, before she could overthink it, she wrapped her arms around the Doctor and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," she breathed into his shoulder, fingers tightening in his leather jacket that groaned under the purchase of her slim fingers. "Thank you."

"Team effort that was," he said into the mass of curls on the top of her head.

Part of him wanted to pull on one of them to see how they would stretch and bounce, but he restrained himself. Maybe when she knew him better, she would let him. He hugged her back because, despite his surprise at her embrace, he wasn't the type of person to pass up a hug when it was offered.

She pulled away from him and looked to Harriet who was wiping her brow with the sleeve of her jacket pulled over her hand. "Hannibal?"

"Hannibal crossed the Alps by dissolving boulders with vinegar," she explained, slightly breathless from the mental exercise they had been put through.

"Oh," Zoe said, "well, there you go then."

She gave a slight breathless laugh and leaned across the table on her elbows.

"Mum? Are you okay?"

" _I'm covered in Slipeen!_ " Jackie wailed, and Zoe dropped her forehead down to the table, shoulders shaking with silent laughter before she looked up with a grin.

"She's okay."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The Doctor swirled the port in his glass before clinking it against Harriet's and Zoe's in turn. He swallowed his in one mouthful, pulling a face at the taste and set it down again; his expression mirrored Zoe's, scrunched up and mildly disgusted. Thinking about it, she had said that she was seventeen. He couldn't remember the legal drinking age in Britain. He wasn't sure that he and Harriet should be supplying her with alcohol. Then again, extenuating circumstances meant it was probably okay. _Maybe._ It had been a long time since was around young people. He needed to brush up on his knowledge and make sure he was still down with the kids; he also needed to check if people still said down with the kids.

He had been away from Earth for a _very_ long time.

The excited tension of their triumph began to fade from the room. The Slitheen in Peckham was dead, which meant that Jackie, Rose, and Mickey were safe, but they were still stuck in the cabinet room with only Mickey and a second-hand PC to help them. It wasn't the best odds he had ever had, but they also weren't the worst either. He also had two intelligent women with him and that helped even the odds more in their favour, so he was feeling positively cheerful when he turned to Zoe. Now that the the immediate threat was taken care of, he returned his attention to her abrupt exclamation minutes earlier.

"You said it was an advert," the Doctor reminded her. "What did you mean?"

"Well, it's an advert," Zoe said unhelpfully. "You were sayin' that it was playing on a loop, repeatin' itself, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, that's what adverts do, innit?" She shrugged, looking between him and Harriet. "They repeat themselves over an' over during a set period in order to sell a product. We know the Slitheen aren't stranded here, an' we know they're not interested in invadin' otherwise they would've killed different people. The one thing we do know is that they're in a family business, so..."

She trailed off and let him connect the dots. It hit him as hard as it had hit her.

"Oh! It's an advert! Zoe Tyler, that's brilliant!" He beamed widely at her and, grabbing her face between his hands, he smacked a kiss to her forehead. "Really, really brilliant. They're beaming out an advert into space!"

She wiped the remnants of his kiss from her forehead with a disgusted expression that made her look like a five-year-old child who had just been manhandled by an overeager relative at a family party.

"But why?" Harriet asked. "What are they selling?"

"Are the selling the Earth?" Zoe asked, a faint scowl lining her features. "Is that somethin' aliens do? Like pirates? Do they go to other planets an' sell them?"

"No, not really," the Doctor said, "but I like your thinking."

She chewed her bottom lip. "That planet – Raxa-whatsit."

"Raxacoricofallapatorius."

"That's the one," she said, certain she would never be able to pronounce it. "What are the people like?"

"I don't know," he said, "I've never been there. They don't have much of a reputation. A middling planet, some involvement in galactic politics but nothing too impressive. Lovely countryside though, or so I've heard."

"New Zealand, then."

"New Zealand." A smile crooked his lips. "But it doesn't matter about the people. We're dealing with one family. That's like – that's like judging all of humanity by the Osmonds."

"Alright, trying to help," she said, sitting back down in her seat. "I don't suppose we could just ask them what they're sellin'? Maybe they'd take a trade."

"Possibly, depending on what they want." He considered the idea thoughtfully. "Although –"

" _Doctor_ ," Mickey said, interrupting them. " _Listen to this._ "

They listened as he crossed his flat, leaving his bedroom where bits of Slitheen had landed, and set the phone on top of his TV so that they could hear the press conference being broadcast from Downing Street. The Doctor increased the volume of the standing speaker with his sonic screwdriver, and all three of them leaned in close and listened.

" _...experts are dead, murdered right in front of me by alien hands,"_ one of the male Slitheen said, his voice familiar to them. " _Peoples of Earth, heed my words. These visitors do not come in peace. Our inspectors have searched the sky above our heads, and they have found massive weapons of destruction capable of being deployed within 45 seconds._ "

"What?" The Doctor demanded, but Zoe shushed him harshly.

" _Our technicians can baffle the alien probes, but not for long,"_ he continued. " _We are facing extinction unless we strike first. The United Kingdom stands directly beneath the belly of the mother ship. I beg of the United Nations...pass an emergency resolution. Give us the access codes. A nuclear strike at the heart of the beast is our only chance of survival because from this moment on it is my solemn duty to inform you that planet Earth is at war._ "

The silence was heavy and stunned in the cabinet room and in Mickey's flat. It was broken only by the BBC news presenter trying to report on the first interplanetary war but falling painfully short. They might have prepared for the Queen's death but they hadn't prepared for an alien attack. If they survived the night, it would be an oversight that would be rectified as soon as possible. Mickey took the phone away from the TV, and the three people in the cabinet room stared at each other in silence.

The Doctor shook his head. "He's making it up. There's no weapons up there. There's no threat. He just invented it."

Harriet looked deeply troubled. "Do you think they'll believe him?"

"They did the last time," Zoe pointed out, and Harriet's lips turned thin with disapproval at the reminder of the Iraq War.

The Doctor began to pace. "That's why the Slitheen went for spectacle. They want the whole world panicking because you lot, you get scared, you lash out. You release the defence codes and the Slitheen go nuclear."

"But hat doesn't make any sense," Zoe protested as her head moved in time with his pacing, following him back and forth like he was a ball on a tennis court. "If they're sellin' things from Earth, then an all out nuclear attack would render this planet uninhabitable for generations. Our plant life an' oceans would be contaminated an' our air would be unbreathable. Where's the profit in that?"

"You'd be surprised," he said darkly, stalking towards the doors; he buzzed his screwdriver at the panel. Zoe leapt to her feet and Harriet straightened up just in time for the metal shutters to sweep up. The female Slitheen was back in her human suit. "You get the codes, release the missiles, but not into space because there's nothing there. You attack every other country on Earth. They retaliate, fight back, it's World War Three. The whole planet gets nuked."

The woman's fleshy mouth spread into a smile that made Zoe's stomach clench around the port.

"And we can sit through it safe in our spaceship waiting in the Thames," she said, a sick note of pleasure in her voice. "Not crashed, just parked. Only two minutes away."

"But you'll destroy the planet!" Harriet exclaimed. "This beautiful place. What for?"

"Profit," the Doctor said, "just like Zoe said."

"The sale of the century," the Slitheen said, delighted with herself and relishing her own cleverness. "We reduce the Earth to molten slag and then sell it piece by piece." Disbelief and terror slipped under Zoe's skin. "Radioactive chunks, capable of powering every cut-price star liner and budget cargo ship." She laughed. "There's a recession out there, Doctor. People are buying cheap. This rock becomes raw fuel."

Zoe stepped forward, her anger overwhelming her fear. "You would kill seven billion people for that?"

The alien sneered at her. "Bargain."

"I give you a choice," the Doctor said, and his voice was as hard as steel and as sharp as a knife's edge. "Leave this planet or I'll stop you."

"What, you?" She scoffed. "Trapped in your box?"

"Yes.," he said simply, "me."

A shiver rolled down Zoe's spine at his voice.

The shutters closed; they thudded against the floor forming the only protective barrier they had between them and the Slitheen. It felt hopeless. Zoe walked away from the shutters to the other end of the room where she rested against the wall, hands deep in her pockets. They were trapped in a room with no way out. There was only so much that Mickey, Rose, and Jackie were able to do from the estate. When she had woken up that morning, her plan had been to proofread her history essay and then lounge on the sofa with Jackie watching a Murder, She Wrote marathon whilst Sunday lunch cooked in the oven. Nowhere in her plans had she included being trapped in Downing Street whilst aliens tried to destroy the Earth.

"Do you have a plan?" Harriet asked, breaking the silence. "It's just...you sounded like you might have a plan."

"Yeah, I did sound like that, didn't I?" The Doctor said.

Zoe watched him run a hand over the top of his head, a frown making deep lines on his forehead. If she didn't know what she knew about him, it would be easy to mistake him for a normal bloke who knocked about the estate.

"Doctor," she said, a thought pricking at her; he looked across the length of the room to give her his attention. "How long have you been coming to Earth?"

"Oh, for centuries," he replied. She frowned and Harriet stared. "I'm older than I look."

"How old are you?" Harriet asked curiously.

"900 years, give or take," he said as though it was normal figure to give in response to such a question.

 _That_ information was too much for Zoe to take in right then, so she pushed it to one side to deal with later. She was good at compartmentalising. It was a handy skill to have, particularly given her current situation.

"In 900 years of time an' space, you must have made some friends," she reasoned.

"Here and there," he said. "Why?"

"Because now would be a very good time for you to call any friends you have who might be able to help us," she told him as she pushed away from the wall and walked towards him, removing her hands from her pockets. "Is there anyone – _anyone_ who might be able to stop the Slitheen from accessin' the nuclear weapons?"

"I don't –" he started before he stopped and tipped his head thoughtfully to one side. "Maybe. Yes. You're right." He focused on her and smiled that wide, happy smile of his that verged on mania. "Zoe Tyler, yet again, you – are – right. There might just be someone who can help. A very, very old friend, if you will. It's been a while since I've seen him but he'll know what to do."

"Excellent!" Harriet cried. "A plan. Who is he?"

"He used to work for UNIT back in the day," the Doctor said, speaking quickly as he snatched up the phone and hung up on Mickey, Rose, and Jackie without a word to them so that he could make the call. "Retired now but if anyone has the pull to get this stopped then its him."

They waited and listened to the sound of the dial tone and then the ringing. It rang for long enough that hope started to trickle out of the room but then –

" _Hello._ "

"Doris," the Doctor said, relieved. "It's the Doctor. Is he there?"

" _Oh, Doctor, I should have known you'd be involved,_ " an amused female voice slid across the line. " _Just wait right there. I'll get him."_

Zoe looked at him with amusement growing around her eyes and mouth. "You get into this type of trouble a lot?"

"Nah," he grinned, "trouble's just the bits in between."

" _Doctor_ ," a man's voice came over the line, " _it's been a while._ "

"Longer for me, I'm afraid, old friend," the Doctor said. "Brig, I need your help."

" _Whatever you need,"_ the Brig, whoever he was, said simply. " _I am at your disposal, though I'm not as fast as I used to be._ "

The Doctor smiled at the phone, and it was a soft, honest smile that was full of affection and gratitude. It was a shame the other man couldn't see it. "I'm in Downing Street at the moment with two women. We're trapped in the cabinet room."

" _I can have soldiers storming the building in 10 minutes._ "

"That'd be nice but there's something more important," he said. "There's no weapons of mass destruction in the sky. The press conference was a lie. The people that you've seen on the news are aliens in disguise. They're plan is to ignite an all out nuclear war here so that they can sell the wreckage."

" _I see,"_ the Brig replied, unruffled by the situation. His calm and poise was infectious. " _I'll call the Secretary General now. Warn them not to release the nuclear codes. Anything else, Doctor_?"

"The ship in the Thames...it's not destroyed," he said. "UNIT might want to pull it out at some point."

" _Will do_. _Can I contact you on this number?_ "

"Yeah, it's Zoe's."

" _New companion_?"

Zoe rolled her eyes heavenward and the Doctor laughed. "No, a new friend."

The Brig laughed. " _Good to hear. I'll contact you when it's done._ "

The Brig hung up and Harriet looked around at them. "Surely it can't be that easy? Who was that man?"

"That was Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart," the Doctor said, pride creeping into his voice. The name was unfamiliar to Zoe, but Harriet recognised it judging from the expression on her face. "He was one of the founders of UNIT. I've worked extensively with him over the years. He's – he's a good friend. If anyone can stop this, it's him."

"An' if he can't?" Zoe asked, hating herself for thinking it but unable to stop herself.

"If he can't, then I have another plan," he admitted, "but I hope it won't come to that."

* * *

" _Yesterday saw the start of a brave new world. Today might see it end. The streets are deserted. Everyone's home, just waiting, as the future is decided in New York._ "

" _It's midnight here in New York. The United Nations has gathered. The United Kingdom has provided them with absolute proof that the massive weapons of destruction do exist."_

" _The Security Council will be making a resolution in a matter of minutes, and once the codes are released, humanity's first interplanetary war begins._ "

* * *

" _They didn't believe me,_ " Alistair said sometime later, a hint of annoyance in his voice that remained otherwise calm and stoic. " _There were suggestions that I was trying to reclaim my glory days. I'm sorry, Doctor. They've released the codes._ "

"Dammit," Harriet swore, palms flat on the table. "How can people be so stupid?"

"They're scared," the Doctor sighed, flexing his hands on the surface of the table, knuckles cracking under the pressure. "They're scared and this is the easiest solution. Never mind that there has been no attack against you, you lot will just shoot first." His frustration boiled over. " _Humans_!"

"Hey!" Zoe protested. "We're not all like that."

" _Don't mind him, dear,_ " Alistair said reassuringly. " _Insulting lesser species is what he does to calm down. He stubbed his toe once and spent ten minutes lambasting our inferior healing abilities._ "

"Yes, thank you, Alistair," the Doctor grouched, and Zoe looked down at her feet to hide her smile.

"You said that you had another plan," Harriet prompted. "It would appear that we need it now." The Doctor shook his head silently. "Doctor. Now is not the time to be reticent. The world is minutes away from destruction. Please. Tell us your plan."

Silence still remained. " _Doctor?_ "

"There's a way out," he said finally. "There's always been a way out."

Irritation swept through Zoe. "Then why haven't we used it?"

"Because I can't guarantee your safety," he said, looking straight at her and her heart thudded in her chest. He looked at Harriet. "Either of you. I can't guarantee that you would survive."

Zoe's mouth went dry. _Oh_. It seemed she was going to die after all.

"What is it?" Harriet asked. "Your plan. What is it?"

"The Slitheen can't be allowed to use the nuclear codes; we're all in agreement on that." They both nodded. "But Alistair can order a missile strike that will destroy Downing Street and everyone inside it. The Slitheen will die before the nuclear weapons are launched but...so will we."

Harriet reached for Zoe who took the offered hand gratefully. The older woman squeezed her hand before speaking to the Doctor. "Do it."

"I'm sorry?"

"Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart," Harriet said firmly, "I order you to instigate a missile strike against Downing Street to eliminate the threat."

" _And who are you?_ "

"Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North," she said, and her shoulders straightened as the weight of responsibility settled there. "The only elected representative in this room. Chosen by the people, for the people, and on behalf of the people, I command you. Do it."

There was a beat of silence. " _Doctor_?"

The Doctor stared at Zoe. "Zoe?"

It surprised her how easy the decision actually was.

"My life in exchange for seven billion others?" Her lips tipped upwards. "Bargain." Emotion flashed across the Doctor's face. "Brigadier, do it."

The Brigadier hesitated for only a moment. " _You have brave friends, Doctor_."

The Doctor looked impossibly sad. "They're always brave."

"Brigadier?" Zoe said before she could stop herself.

" _Yes, dear?_ "

"When this is over," she started before the emotion in her made her clear her throat, "can you – can you tell my mum that I'm sorry?" Tears blurred her vision, and Harriet squeezed her hand hard. "An' tell her that I love her so much, an' that I'm really glad she was my mum? Can you tell her that? Please?"

" _It will be my honour,"_ He promised, and Zoe nodded, sniffing against the tide of her tears that swelled within her.

She allowed Harriet to draw her into a tight embrace, and she pressed her forehead into the curve of her warm neck. There was a minute of silence that ticked by with agonising slowness before the Brigadier got back to them.

" _The missiles are on their way,_ " Alistair said. " _UNIT soldiers are clearing the streets._ "

"Thank you, Alistair," the Doctor replied solemnly, "for everything."

" _Always, old friend._ "

And with that, they were left in silence awaiting the missiles that were speeding through the air towards them. Zoe thought that she might have time to call her mother but the thought of speaking to her and saying goodbye hurt more than she could say. She left her phone on the table and stepped away from Harriet, who strode towards the metal shutters.

"How solid are these?" The MP for Flydale North asked, rapping her knuckles against them.

"Not solid enough," the Doctor said. "They're Built for a short range attack, nothing this big."

"What about your ship?" Zoe asked. "Is there any way you can bring her here?"

"No," he said apologetically, "she needs to be piloted manually."

She tangled her fingers in the depths of her curls and tugged, the slight pain a welcome reprieve from everything she was feeling. She gripped her handful of hair so tightly that her knuckles turned white. _It wasn't fair_ she thought to herself _I'm seventeen_. She stomped her foot against the ground, aware that it was a childish move but was unable to care. "No. This isn't happenin'."

"Zoe..." the Doctor reached for her, but she sidestepped him, hands at her side.

"I'm seventeen years old," she told him, jaw set angrily and her eyes blazing with the injustice of what was happening. "I don't want to die."

His eyes shuttered with pained emotion, voice thick with regret and apology. "I'm sorry."

"Shut up," she said fiercely, annoyed at his feelings that were spilling all over her. "An' open the door."

He blinked. "What?"

"Open the door," she repeated. "I don't want to die but if this is it – if this is how my life ends, then I'm not goin' to spend the last few minutes cowerin' in a locked room like a scared child. We're goin' to make a run for it an' try to get past the Slitheen. If we can get out of the buildin' then we have a better chance of survivin' the explosion, right?"

"We'll still get caught in it," he cautioned, but he saw where her angry defiance of death was taking her. "But yes, a better chance than just waiting here."

"Harriet," she said, looking to the MP. "You ready to run?"

Harriet nodded, determined and fully onboard with the plan. "Absolutely."

"Good," Zoe said. "Now. Doctor. I'll tell you again. Open – the damn – door."

The Doctor aimed the screwdriver and the metal shutters snapped up. The Slitheen weren't outside. The outer office was empty and the surprise lasted only a second before the three of them were running. They sprinted down the carpeted hallways and leapt down the staircases past the portraits of former prime ministers as the faint rays of the early morning sunlight began to shine through the windows, casting a fresh light that glow pale and golden as they ran through the patches of sun. Through the windows, they saw that the street outside was empty.

A loud screaming noise, initially a low hum in the background of their hearing, grew louder and louder. On the way past one of the windows, Zoe caught sight of the missile flying towards them.

Harriet reached the front door first, and she wrenched it open. Her shaking hands fumbled with the door handle before she got her grip. The famous black door whipped back and crashed against the wall, shaking in its hinges. The three of them tore out of the building but there was nowhere to go. There wasn't enough time to make it out of the street. Instead, the Doctor grabbed them both by the backs of their clothing and dragged them down behind a low wall, bushes digging into them as they fell on them, his body covering theirs as best he could, hands pressing them down.

A terrifyingly loud explosion snapped through the air and slammed into her ears, making her cry out against the rough concrete her face was pressed against. It felt and sounded as though the world was being torn apart around her. The Doctor's arm tightened over her head, his breath getting lost in her hair, and burning hot air washed over them; debris from 10 Downing Street and the neighbouring houses exploded outward. The ground beneath her body shook and trembled, and she tried to get closer to it even as she tried to push away, pressing up into the Doctor's chest that was as unmovable as a brick walk. The shock wave sent a shower of broken glass down on them, bouncing beneath them. Her bottom lip caught on a shard, and she tasted blood in her mouth.

It seemed to last for forever and a day before it slowed to a stop.

Her ears rang loudly, and she heard nothing but an echoing ringing throughout her head. Slowly, the Doctor sat up, keeping his hands on Zoe and Harriet to keep them safely down in case there was anything more before the pressure on their backs eased, and he helped them sit up. His strong hands caught Zoe under her armpits, and he lifted her easily into the sitting position. It wasn't just her hearing that was affected, it was her vision too; it swam and danced in front of her, blurring her surroundings into various shades of grey and black. She fell back against the low wall, gasping for breath, dragging hot, smoky air into her lungs. She coughed as her hearing came back, swiftly followed by her vision.

The Doctor lowered his sonic from her face, twisting so that he was able to tend to Harriet's hearing. All three of them were covered in a fine layer of dust and Harriet had glass in her hair. Zoe laughed breathlessly. "We're alive!"

Harriet's smile was wide and happy, and she stretched across the distance between them to hug the teenager tightly. Zoe held on tightly to her, body shaking with relieved laughter. "Oh, my dear girl. We're alive!"

Zoe laughed again and dragged the Doctor into the hug, pulling him down by his lapels. She felt his smile where his face was pressed against her shoulder. Eventually, they released each other and turned to look at the damage the missile had caused. Downing Street had been reduced to rubble and the cabinet room was completely gone; all that was left were twists of melted metal where the barriers once stood. Slowly and carefully, Zoe got to her feet, her knees wobbling; the Doctor supported her by cupping her elbow.

"They couldn't have survived that," Harriet said, stunned as she stared at the destruction. "Could they, Doctor?"

"Unlikely," he said, "but don't worry. UNIT will scour every inch of this place from top to bottom to make sure nothing got out."

Harriet swallowed and nodded. They slowly worked their way out of the street, stepping across rubble as paper fragments fell on them like snow. The ash in the air coated what the dust hadn't.

A soldier ran towards them. "Oh my god, are you okay?"

"Harriet Jones, MP, Flydale North," Harriet said, taking charge. "I want you to contact the UN immediately. Tell the ambassadors that the crisis is over. They can step down." The soldier gaped. "Go on, tell the news."

He snapped a salute. "Yes, ma'am."

"Someone's got a hell of a job sorting this lot out," she noted before her eyes went wide. "Oh, lord! We haven't even got a prime minister."

The Doctor smiled. "Maybe you should give it a go."

"Me?" She looked stunned. "I'm only a back bencher."

"I'd vote for you," Zoe said honestly, smiling at her.

"Now, don't be silly," Harriet blushed before looking over her shoulder. "Look, I'd better go and see if I can help." She hugged Zoe tightly and then the Doctor before she hurried down the street, waving to the people slowly making their way towards them. "Hang on! We're safe! The Earth is safe! Sergeant!"

The Doctor's hand left Zoe's elbow and took her hand. She allowed it as her need for comfort overrode the weirdness of holding a stranger's hand; although, she wasn't sure she could call the Doctor a stranger after the night they had shared.

"I thought I knew the name." He looked down at Zoe. "Harriet Jones. Future prime minister. Elected for three successive terms. The architect of Britain's Golden Age."

Zoe looked at Harriet, watching her as she approached the crowd and stopped in front of a camera to address them. "You know what? I'm not at all surprised."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Zoe bent over at the waist and shook her head violently. Little shards of glass flew from the curls of her hair in a cloud of dust and ash – it was as though she had most of 10 Downing Street lost in the mess that was her hair. Carefully, she moved her fingers through it, dislodging more tiny, glittering shards that fell to the ground like raindrops. She eventually straightened up and shrugged out of her jacket. The breath of hot air that swept away from the rubble and passed across her skin was uncomfortable as it was dry and dusty. She cracked her jacket clean with a flick of her wrist, getting rid of the worst of the detritus that had settled on her. She used the back of it to clean her face before she slipped into it again. As her phone had been blown up along with Downing Street, she had no way to contact her mother and let her know that she was okay; so, she deliberately walked in front of as many TV cameras that could find in an effort to allay her mother's fears, but she was more than ready to go home.

The Doctor appeared from the rubble, having made the decision to give the wreckage a cursory examination whilst she cleaned herself up. She looked up at his approach, straightening her jacket collar as he nearly tripped on the uneven ground, stumbling like a drunk ostrich.

"Anythin'?" She asked.

"Nothing," he said, slipping his screwdriver back into the pocket of his coat. "It looks like the plan worked."

"Well, the Earth is still here so I'd say yeah, the plan worked," she grinned, and he huffed a laugh. "You ready to go? I want to see Mum." He nodded. "Good. By the way, you owe me a new phone. Mine blew up."

"Duly noted," he said, and she bumped him with her elbow.

They walked side by side down the rubble-strewn street in the opposite direction of the news reporters who were still bombarding Harriet with questions and would continue to do so for hours more. The Doctor helped her pick her way over a large pile of broken stone and splintered wood that had once been a house, tangled curtains peeking out from a gap in the ruins. She jumped down onto the other side where it was much quieter as everyone was still evacuated; they wouldn't be allowed back to their homes for at least two more days. She looked around as she waited for the Doctor to follow her over. He landed with surprising lightness at her side as he was a big man, and she had expected him to land heavily. He offered his arm, but she rolled her eyes and walked forwards. They moved a grand total of three steps when a black Range Rover pulled up in front of them and the door opened.

A tall, elderly man in a tweed jacket and shooting cap stepped out. He picked up a wooden cane and walked towards them slowly. Zoe glanced up at the Doctor, using his reaction as a gauge to form hers, and relaxed at the smile that split his face open.

"Alistair!" He greeted enthusiastically.

"Hello, Doctor," a familiar voice replied, and the two met in the middle with outstretched hands that turned into a friendly embrace. "Nice face. The ears are a bit much though."

The strangeness of the comment passed Zoe by because Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart turned his gaze onto her while the Doctor blustered at the comment on his appearance. His kindly face softened into a smile. "You must be Zoe."

"I am," she said, moving towards them and shaking his warm, soft hand. He clasped her hand between his. "It's lovely to meet you, sir."

"Oh, call me Alistair, dear," he said patting her hand. "I've had my people call your mother. She knows that you're alive." Gratitude and relief swept through her. "I promised I'd bring you home swiftly so, if you two would kindly step into the car."

"Thank you," she said sincerely, squeezing his hand.

Zoe climbed into the back seat whilst the Doctor sat in the front with the Brigadier, chatting away with his old friend in a way that both surprised and amused Zoe. The comfort of the Brigadier's car and the relief at heading home made her attention wander; not that she needed to focus as the two old friends were happy talking in the front, catching up on each other's lives. She rested her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. It had been a very long day; she had been awake for twenty-four hours and so much had happened.

Rose coming home.

The Doctor.

The TARDIS.

The space-pig.

The Slitheen.

Almost _dying_.

It struck her that she was meant to be at college that day. She smiled to herself; if ever there was a good reason to not go to school then she had it.

She must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes, the Doctor was peering over her. She blinked up at him. "Are we home?"

"Yeah," he said, voice soft and fond. "C'mon. Reckon you could do with some sleep."

"Reckon I could," she agreed, allowing him to help her out of the car. She was back on the estate, and it was strange to be there after everything had happened to find that nothing had changed. She faced the Brigadier. "Thank you. For everything."

"It was my pleasure," Alistair replied. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She blushed. "It's good to see the Doctor in such lovely hands."

"Oh, not my hands," Zoe said, embarrassed. "I only met him yesterday. He's my sister's boyfriend."

Alistair's head snapped towards the Doctor with an expression of shock and unadulterated glee, as though Zoe had just handed him the most important information in the universe. The Doctor groaned, but Alistair pressed on. "Really?"

"I'm not her boyfriend."

Zoe raised her eyebrows. "Does she know that?"

The Doctor's ears burned a brilliant red, and Alistair laughed. "Well, one way or the other, the two of you make a good team. Until next time, Miss Tyler."

"Until next time," she promised, surprised to find herself hoping that there was a next time. He and the Doctor took leave of each other with another firm handshake and a brotherly embrace before he drove away. "C'mon, I want to see my mum."

Despite her tiredness, Zoe crossed the estate quickly, paying no attention as to whether or not the Doctor was keeping up with her, eager to get back into the familiar surroundings of her home and see her mother. She took the stairs as quickly as she could, not quite able to do two at a time as her thighs ached from the running that she had done in the last few hours. Soon enough, she had reached their floor, and she hurried down the concrete walkway and dug around in her pockets for her keys. The buzz of the Doctor's screwdriver made her jump as she hadn't realised he was behind her, but it saved her from having to find her keys as the automatic lock popped open and the door swung inwards.

Zoe stepped inside. "Mum?"

Jackie appeared around the corner, and she cried out. "Zoe! Oh, Zoe! Baby!"

Zoe threw herself at her mother and held onto her tightly, breathing in her familiar smell and taking comfort in her warm, soft body. Jackie babbled incoherently into her hair but nothing mattered except for the fact that she was back home with her mother. Rose hurried past them and half-tackled the Doctor as she grabbed him in a hug, his response enthusiastic enough to lift her from her feet, making her laugh. Mickey popped up behind Jackie, scowled at the Doctor and Rose but grinned at Zoe. He mimed a drink; she stuck her thumb up at him, causing him to slip into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

Jackie pulled back and cupped her daughter's face. Her hazel eyes flicked across her, searching for damage. "Are you okay?"

"I'm knackered," Zoe admitted with a hitched laugh, "and hungry. And I really need a shower. But yeah, I'm okay."

Jackie drew her back in. "I was so scared."

"Me too," she whispered, face pressed into her shoulder.

"Zoe," her sister said behind her, and Jackie reluctantly released her.

Zoe turned to be fiercely embraced by her older sister. She watched as the Doctor tried to retreat through the door without being noticed by Jackie.

"Oi, alien," Jackie snapped, voice like a whip crack.

 _No such luck_.

The Doctor moved cautiously as though expecting another smack to the face.

"Mum, don't start," Rose pleaded, releasing Zoe from her hug but staying close to her.

"Oh, relax," Jackie rolled her eyes. "How d'you take your tea?"

The Doctor stared, nonplussed. "What?"

"Tea," she repeated. "You do drink tea, don't you?"

"Yes, I do," he said with a frown like he was trying to figure out the hidden meaning behind her words.

Jackie stared at him as though he was an idiot. "Then how d'you take it?"

"He has two sugars, Mum," Rose said, looking between the two of them with a hopeful look on her face.

"Right then," she nodded. "Everyone sit down. I'll get a cup of tea in Zoe then she can have a shower an' a kip." She smoothed her hand over her daughter's curls. "No college today, I think."

"Definitely not," Zoe laughed, peeling herself out of her jacket and draping it over the back of the armchair to be washed later.

She sank down onto the sofa and grunted as she worked her trainers off her feet, kicking them into the corner and giving her toes a wriggle. Jackie sat next to her, arm around her shoulders, demanding to know what had happened. Fortunately, Zoe wasn't required to speak as the Doctor was happy enough to explain what had happened to them, letting her snuggle in close to her mother when she took her cup of tea from Mickey and sipped it. Her stomach welcomed the hot liquid. She had had nothing to eat except a few bad sandwiches at Downing Street. She curled her fingers around the mug and enjoyed the relaxing effects of tea.

"How d'you figure out what the signal was then?" Rose asked the Doctor. She was sat next to him, perched on the armchair, fingers absently playing with his leather jacket. Zoe watched them, faintly amused at the sight.

"Oh, that wasn't me," the Doctor said. "It was Zoe. She figured it out."

"You did?" She asked surprised.

Zoe peered at her over the top of her mug. "No need to sound so surprised. I'm not daft, y'know."

"She was brilliant," the Doctor said sincerely, meeting Zoe's eyes. "Just brilliant."

She smiled behind her mug before her jaw cracked in a huge yawn that squeezed tears out of her eyes. Jackie took charge then and made her finish the rest of her tea before ushering her off to bed. Exhausted, Zoe just lay down on top of her covers and fell asleep before her head even hit the pillow. When the Doctor walked past the open door on his way out of the flat to the TARDIS, he paused and took in the sight of her sprawled, tired body with a small smile.

* * *

Zoe woke up at three in the afternoon. She was pulled from her slumber by hunger scratching at her stomach. She didn't move straight away. For one second, she thought that it had all been a dream: everything that had happened from Rose's return to Downing Street exploding nearly on top of her. She almost convinced herself it was a dream when she moved and realised that she was still wearing her dirt-stained clothes. She sat up slowly and rolled her neck, satisfied at the cracking sound it made. Her body was still and sore but she was able to work her clothes off, tossing them into the corner to deal with later. She peeled her underwear off and pulled her dressing gown on.

She shuffled out of her bedroom and into the living room. The TV was on showing the BBC news with Harriet Jones speaking to the camera. "... _mankind stands tall, proud_..."

"Zoe, you're awake!" Rose said, sitting up from where she had been slumped in the chair. Jackie looked around, happy and relieved.

"Hey," she said, voice hoarse. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Where's the Doctor?"

"The TARDIS," Rose said. "How are you?"

"Hungry," she said, "an' dirty." A yawn broke through her words, and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm goin' to go for a shower an' then I thought I'd make a lasagne."

"Oh, sweetheart, no, I'll cook," Jackie said. "Don't know if we've got the fixings for a lasagne but I can whip up a shepherd's pie easy enough. Now go shower. You look filthy."

Zoe huffed and shuffled into the bathroom. She turned the shower on to give it time to heat up, and she shrugged out of her dressing gown. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. She did look filthy. Her hair had turned grey from the ash and dust despite her best efforts to shake it out, and her skin was streaked with dark smudges where perspiration had stained the dirt on her. She brushed her teeth before stepping into the shower, her thighs aching when she stepped over the side of the bath.

The pressure of hot water against her body was delicious. She tilted her head back and let it cascade across her. She ducked her head under the water and watched as the water ran dark with dirt. Only when it ran clear did she liberally apply her shampoo, rubbing the foam over her skin and under her armpits as she did so. It took three washes before she felt certain that her hair was clean enough to apply the conditioner that she worked through and let sit while she scrubbed her face with Jackie's special face scrub. By the time that she stepped out, she felt a million times better.

She wrapped her hair in a towel, moisturised, and slipped back into her dressing gown. Jackie had made her a tuna sandwich to take the edge off of her hunger while she cooked. She ate it as she dried herself off and slipped into her baggy Queen T-shirt and leggings. She rubbed her hair dry and left it to dry in the air after rubbing some serum into it to stop it from frizzing, a problem that she fought with on a daily basis. She grabbed her zip up hoodie and stuck her head into the kitchen.

"Mum, I'm poppin' down to the TARDIS," she said. "I want to talk to the Doctor."

Rose stuck her head over the top of her armchair. "What about?"

"Mind your own business, nosey."

Jackie sighed. "If you have to. Tell him dinner's in an hour."

"What?" The two sisters said together, and Rose unfolded herself from the armchair to stand behind her sister's shoulder. She stared at their mother. "You're invitin' him to dinner?"

"Well, I reckon I've got no choice," Jackie admitted. "There's no getting rid of him since you're infatuated."

Rose turned red. "I'm not infatuated."

Zoe snorted. "Yes, you are."

"An' he did bring Zoe home safe today so that's a point in his favour," Jackie said. "Not that I like him, mind you. I think he's dangerous but I know you, Rose. You're not goin' to stop whatever this is because I don't like it so –" she heaved a heavy sigh. "So I want to learn about you an' him an' that life you lead."

Rose was so relieved and grateful that she stepped past Zoe and wrapped their mother in a hug. "Thank you."

"I'll go extend the invitation then," Zoe said, smiling happily as she pulled back and found her boots by the door. She stuffed her feet into them and zipped them up before walking down the stairs while slipping into her hoodie.

The night air was refreshingly cool as she stepped out of Bucknall House. She breathed in deep and paused to look up at the night's sky. The stars glittered overhead, just visible through the light pollution that covered London. She had loved science fiction all her life; Star Trek was her favourite TV show. When she was younger and irritable, it was the only thing that would work to keep her calm and quiet. She had always hoped that there was life out there in the universe. She had found it difficult to believe that in a universe so large that Earth was the only planet to hold life, and now she had her proof. She had met aliens and seen alien technology and was on her way to talk to an alien. She smiled up at the sky before walking towards the TARDIS. It simply looked like an old-fashioned police telephone box. The blue was slight faded but it would not have looked out of place in the 1960s; though, if it was meant as a camouflage then it failed as it was more than a little bit obvious. Despite that, it was still the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Inside and out.

She approached the door and knocked on the wood after a moment's hesitation. She waited and then knocked again. The door opened beneath her fist, and the Doctor looked down at her before breaking into a grin.

"Zoe Tyler!"

"Doctor!" She replied with a laugh. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," he said and stepped out of her way whilst holding the door open. He had also showered and had a shave as she was able to smell his cologne: something warm and spicy. "Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," she said, smiling up at the glowing rotor in the middle of the room. "God, she really is beautiful. I'm not sure I'd ever get used to her."

"Careful," the Doctor said, amused. "She'll get an ego if you flatter her too much."

Zoe grinned and patted the console, smoothing her fingers over it with a hint of reverence in her touch.

"I've come to invite you to dinner," she said. "Mum's cooking a shepherd's pie an' she'd like to hear about what you an' Rose have been up to."

"I don't do domestics," he replied, good humour slipping into curtness. She peered around the console at him. "Besides, I'm almost ready to leave. I was about to give Rose a call when you came a-knocking at my door."

She stared at him. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't leave just yet," she requested. "I haven't seen my sister in a year an' I've barely had time to talk to her with everythin' that's been goin' on. I want to have dinner with her an' my mum. So don't leave just yet."

The Doctor stared down at the console. She was so painfully honest and sincere that it shamed him. "Like I said, I don't do domestics."

"Then go down to the pub," she shrugged exasperatedly, "or take a walk. Or do whatever it is you do when you don't do domestics." He looked up at her. "I'm tellin' you that I want to have dinner with my sister. I would like it if you would join us, but if that makes you uncomfortable then I understand. However, you also don't speak for Rose."

There was a warning buried in there that pricked at his memory. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "Yesterday. When you threatened to push me off the building –" a grin flashed across her face. "You mentioned a Jimmy Stone."

"That's a question for Rose, not for me," she said, her voice leaving no room for argument. She breathed in deeply and exhaled, moving around to get closer to him. She leaned her hip against the console. "Look. You're an alien. I get that, even if I don't really understand the whole thing yet, but judgin' from your friendship with Alistair, you've been around humans enough to know the value that we place on family. Are you really goin' to ask Rose to choose?"

The Doctor sighed heavily and dropped his head. "Has anyone ever told you that you're very clever?"

"Actually, no," Zoe said, "but thank you."

"Well, you are.," he said, flicking a toggle irritably. "Fine. I won't go anywhere yet, but I'm not having dinner with you."

"Fine."

"Fine."

" _Fine."_ She rolled eye eyes, arms folded her chest, and they avoided looking at each other before she huffed a laugh. "You're ridiculous."

His good humour came back. "You're not the first person to tell me that."

"An' I doubt I'll be the last."

They grinned at each other. The Doctor examined her and noted that she looked better, refreshed and clean. "How you feeling?"

"Better, thanks.," she said. "It doesn't feel real just yet. I imagine that's goin' to come later. Is it – is it always like that with you?"

"Sometimes," he said, "not always. I meant it earlier when I said trouble's just the bits in between."

She raised her eyebrows. "It's a hell of a way to live your life."

The Doctor removed his hands from the toggle and put them in his jacket's pockets, nervous. "It is. You – er – you want to try it?"

"Try what?"

"This life," he said, taking care to keep the hope out of his voice because he _really_ liked Zoe and to have her travelling with him and Rose would be fantastic. She clearly hadn't expected the offer though because she looked as though she had been slapped in the face with a brick. "Earlier, when I said that you were brilliant, I was telling the truth. You are brilliant, Zoe Tyler. Fantastic, in fact."

"I threw up and cried, Doctor," she said with half a laugh. "Hardly the thing you find in stories 'bout things like this."

"Yeah, you did," he agreed, "but you were also clever, and kind, and brave. Not many seventeen-year-old girls would've made the decision that you made in that cabinet room."

She shook her head. "There was no decision. Not really."

"Except there was," he said, stepping closer to her to try to get her to understand. "You didn't have to sacrifice yourself, but you did. You could have said no. You could have fought against it but you didn't even think of doing that. You were terrified but you made a decision that helped to save seven billion people. You are fantastic and I would be honoured to have travel with me."

She looked away from him, unable to bear the sincerity in his voice and expression. She breathed out and looked around the coral-strutted room. She had spent her life in a place where intelligence wasn't as valued as street smarts; where her quiet aspirations of simply going to university were considered to be out of her reach. The youngest daughter of a single mother who was on and off benefits. She wasn't the type of person that people put their money on and now she had the most remarkable man she had ever met tell her that she was clever, kind, brave, and fantastic all while offering her all of time and space. She pressed her face into her hands and rubbed. She needed to think. Every part of her body and mind screamed for her to say yes; to take the opportunity that he was offering her with both hands and to not let go.

 _Except_...

There was a small, quiet part of her brain that gently jostled for her attention; that implored her to do what she was good at and _think_. She turned around to face him where he was waiting for her answer.

"New companion," Zoe said, and he frowned. "That's what Alistair said on the phone when he asked who I was. He said _new companion_. Doctor, how many people have travelled with you?"

His expression shuttered and became guarded. "Oh, I don't know. A few."

"A few?" She repeated. "More or less than ten?"

He hesitated. "More."

"Twenty?"

A muscle in his jaw twitched. "More."

"Thirty?"

"About forty," he finally answered, "maybe fifty."

"An' what happened to them?" She asked him, performing some mental arithmetic as quickly as she could in her head. "Because you're 900 years old, an' if we ignore the fact that you were a baby an' a child at some point an' use all the 900 years: fifty companions over 900 years is about eighteen years on average with you."

He rubbed his jaw. "What's your point, Zoe?"

"My point is," she began carefully, "what happens to your companions when they leave you?" A thought struck her. "Or when you leave them?"

He looked at anything except her. "I don't know."

She nodded, a little disappointed although it was what she had expected. "You never visit them again?"

"No," he said shortly.

"Okay." She nodded, and he looked at her. She had to glance away because of the sheer emotion that was visible on his face. "I'm not...I'm not judgin' you, Doctor. Not for a second. I just..." she tried to find the right words. "I want to travel with you more than I can say. Even as I'm sayin' this, my brain is screamin' at me to shut up and say yes."

He stepped forwards. "Then say yes, Zoe. I'll show you things you can't even imagine at the moment. There is a whole universe out there for you to explore and all of time. Everything that ever was, and everything that ever will be. It can all be at your fingertips."

He painted a very tempting picture, and her mind swam with possibilities. She forced it down, certain she would regret the decision but also certain it was the right decision for her.

"An' then what?" She asked him. "After a couple of years, maybe ten at the most, you drop me home an' I never see you again?"

He turned from her in frustration. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to understand why I'm saying no!" She exclaimed, and he turned back, hurt flashing across his face. How many people said no to travelling through all of time and space? She couldn't imagine that it was many because very few would be as stupid as she felt she was in that moment. "It's not because I don't want to. It's not because of you. It's because if I leave now, right now, tonight, with you an' Rose, I won't have anythin' to come back to in 10 years."

That drew him short. "What do you mean?"

"Doctor, I'm seventeen."

"I know that."

"I'm in the middle of my A-levels," she told him. "I've been accepted to university. If I leave now an' travel with you instead of taking my exams an' then come back when I'm twenty-seven or whatever, I'll be a grown woman with no qualifications an' no hope of a decent job."

She passed a shaking hand across her mouth. "D'you know what most people from the estate can hope to achieve? A decent job in a shop with plenty of hours. That's it. That's the grand total of what people like me are told we can aim for, but fuck that. That life isn't for me. I want more from my life, Doctor. I want to do more. I want to do somethin' that will make a difference. I will not live like this for the rest of my life. I won't do it!"

Abruptly, Zoe realised that she was speaking very loudly and angrily. She took a step back to calm herself down, hands shaking with her anger that wasn't directed at the Doctor, but rather at her own situation. After a moment, she spoke again.

"Travellin' with you would be the most incredible thing I'd ever do...but it wouldn't be worth it," she said softly, hoping that he would understand but not expecting it. She wasn't sure that she understood. "Not really. Not if I then spent the rest of my life livin' on a council estate dreamin' of the past. My life'd be no different than it is now, except for the fact that my window of opportunity would be gone."

With that off her chest, Zoe turned from him so that he couldn't see her face. She hadn't spoken before about her discontent with her situation. She had never dared to for fearing of hurting Jackie and Rose or offending them because that was the life they led. Jackie by virtue of being a widow with two young daughters to raise by herself; Rose by virtue of a bad decision and a bad relationship. They were both smart women – smart, and strong, and loving, and Zoe was proud to call them family – but it wasn't her life.

She wanted off the estate more than she wanted all of time and space.

The silence in the control room was thick and heavy. Deciding that she had embarrassed herself enough for one night, she straightened up and turned around with every intention of leaving. She would tell her mother and sister that the Doctor wouldn't be joining them. They would have a nice dinner, and Zoe would hear about the adventures she would never get to have because her decision was made and then, at some point in the future, she would comfort Rose when the Doctor inevitably left her behind. She would live her life forever regretting her decision even though it was the best decision for her – no matter how much it hurt.

"Okay," the Doctor said, and he was looking at her with an expression that she couldn't read , leaving her feeling more vulnerable than before. It was as though her words had allowed him to see right through to her very bones, and she didn't like it.

"Okay what?"

"You don't want to travel with me," he said. "Not now, anyway."

Zoe let out a disbelieving laugh, short and to the point. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but you don't seem like the type of man to come back at a more convenient time for someone who's said no."

He smiled wryly. "I'm not. And if I wasn't travelling with your sister, then maybe I'd let you go and we'd never see each other again. I don't know. But I am travelling with Rose, and maybe it's time I changed some of my old rules about visiting family."

She stared at him. "What're you sayin'?"

"When are your exams over?" He asked, typing something into the computer attached to the console.

"End of June," she said, hope stirring in her chest. "I don't actually have the exam timetable yet, but end of June."

"July 1st," he said, turning to face her. "Will you come with me on July 1st?"

She blinked at him. "You're serious."

"I'm always serious," he said, "except when I'm not."

"But –"

"You could take a gap year," the Doctor suggested. "Or two. Go travelling like all the young people do. And when you're ready, I'll bring you home and you can go to university, just like you planned."

She felt breathless with anticipation and hope. "You'd do that?"

"Not for everyone," he said before pausing. "Actually, you're the first person."

"Why?"

"Because you have a first-class mind that is being wasted," he said honestly. Zoe leaned heavily against the console. "I've travelled with many people and do you know how many started off a conversation with me about relative causality?" She just stared. "None. I used to teach, back on my world, when I was younger, and I can recognise when intellectual talent isn't being used. Come with me, Zoe, and I'll teach you things that will mean you never have to step foot on an estate again for as long as you live."

She felt her heart beating rapidly in her chest, and her blood rushed through her ears. He held out his hand, intending to shake on it. "What do you say?"

There was only one thing she could say.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

The five months passed both more quickly and more slowly than Zoe hoped for.

The Doctor and Rose left in the TARDIS the morning after Downing Street was turned to dust and rubble. Jackie had tried desperately to get her daughter to stay permanently and let the Doctor go off on his own, but that was the source of such a stout and firm refusal that she had had to turn to something more likely: extending her stay by a few days. Eventually, the Doctor lost what little patience Zoe had hammered into him with her mild rant that he seemed to be half-tempted to take off without Rose and so Rose had jumped into the TARDIS with a hiking bag stuffed full of clothes; a fleeting hug for her family; and a kiss on the mouth for Mickey.

"You'll like this," the Doctor had said to Zoe with a sparkle of amusement in his clear blue eyes, and she had half-laughed in confusion before the TARDIS disappeared in a wheezing, groaning symphony that made her stumble back in shock and awe.

He was right.

She did like it.

With the benefit of a lifetime of experiencing dealing with Jackie Tyler, Zoe had wisely waited until the Doctor was safely off the surface of Earth when she broke the news to her mother that she would be joining Rose in the TARDIS after she took her A-Level exams. Jackie had been less than pleased. In hindsight, she probably should have waited until closer to her date of departure to break the news to her mother as she became the sole focus of a single-minded attack to get her to change her mind ever since.

The atmosphere in the flat turned so oppressive and tense that Zoe had taken to spending nights on Mickey's sofa or studying in the 24-hour library and sneaking back into the flat in the early hours of the morning, pretending she was still asleep whilst Jackie banged around in the kitchen in frustration.

"She'll get over it," Mickey promised late one night when Zoe had stomped up to his flat in a dark mood with a bottle of cheap wine she had bought from Stavros, who didn't care that she was underage as long as she wore a low enough neckline. "She's just havin' trouble letting go is all."

She scowled into her smudged pint glass because Mickey didn't seem to know that he could actually own wine glasses. "Everyone leaves home eventually."

"Yeah, but not to travel through time an' space with an alien though, mate," he said pointedly amidst the antiseptic smell from UNIT's cleaning team that still hadn't yet faded even weeks later. "'Sides, you're meant to be the sensible one."

She pulled a face at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Jackie got pregnant at eighteen," he listed off. "Rose dropped out of school for Jimmy fuckin' Stone. You've always been more focused. Figured you'd end up runnin' the country one day, an' I could tell people that I used to know you when you'd run around the estate in your nappy."

Zoe blushed, her skin darkening right up to the roots of her hair. She swirled her wine in her glass; it wasn't the best as it tasted like paint stripper, but it did its job. "I'm still goin' to do that. I just...I'm takin' a gap year, is all. Like all them toffs do. Mine's just, y'know," she flapped her hand, "a bit further away than bloody Cambodia."

He laughed and tossed an arm over her shoulders. He smelt of wine and Lynx spray, but she curled into his familiar warmth. "Like I said. Jackie'll get over it. Give her enough time to miss you an' she'll be fine."

He kissed the top of her head, and they settled back down to watch Gregory Peck and Audrey Hepburn fall in love in Rome.

At the very least, Jackie eased up on her passive-aggressive campaign when her exams started in May. She was invested in her daughter doing well, proud as she was that her youngest was getting her A-Levels when so few of her peers on the estate did.

Zoe actually enjoyed exams. She liked the way they measured what she knew and how they gave her an accurate score back; she liked knowing if she was good at something or if she needed to improve. However, considering that her A-levels were fairly essential in securing her currently conditional place at UCL, she was a little panicked and anxious – even if she was planning to defer for a year or two (three at the most, she told herself). If she failed them, or she didn't get the AAB she needed for admittance, she would have to leave the TARDIS to take them again, and she didn't want to do that. As such, she worked herself into the ground.

When she decided to take five A-levels, it had seemed like a good idea.

Rose had been missing for three months at that point, and Zoe was unable to sleep. She spent her nights tossing and turning with a sick feeling deep in her stomach that one day the police would knock on the door to the flat and give her and Jackie the news they didn't dare think about, but that which they worried about constantly. Taking a full course load had been a way to distract her from everything around her, and no one seemed to think it a bad idea; she was a good student before Rose's disappearance, and she became an excellent one after it as well, finding refuge in her studies from the creeping coldness of home. Now that she was on the other side and facing her exams with her sister accounted for, she began to regret her choice.

It was the night before her first exam when mother and daughter finally reached a truce. Zoe was sat cross-legged on her bed in the bedroom that she no longer had to share with her sister, her back hunched over her study notes, pain beginning to stiffen her spine. She felt as though she was going cross-eyed as she went over her notes for her French reading and writing exam in the morning.

"You'll do your back in readin' like that," Jackie said from the doorway; Zoe looked up, blinking the tiredness from her dry eyes. Her mother was dressed in her pyjamas, and she held two cups of tea in her hands. She held one out as an olive branch. "Here."

Zoe groaned as she sat up straight, her back stretching out and something popping; she took her favourite mug from her and drew it close to her chest. "Thanks."

She shifted back and rested against the wall where her pillows were propped up. It was nice to have the room to herself without feeling guilty about enjoying the space now that she knew her sister wasn't rotting at the bottom of a canal somewhere. She sipped her tea and opened her eyes when she felt her mattress dip beneath Jackie's weight. Wary tension slipped through her body, and her fingers tightened reflexively on her mug.

"How's it goin'?" Jackie asked, absently picking through the revision notes that were spread out whilst taking care not to disturb the order.

"Good, I think," she said, trying to work the ache out of her neck. It gave a satisfying pop. "I'll be glad when it's over."

Jackie huffed a small smile as she looked at her daughter's notes that were splayed with colour to catch the eye and keep the attention. "Always wondered why you chose French."

"Figured it might be useful," she replied with a small shrug.

The truth was that the ten minutes she had had with a careers counsellor in her last year at secondary school had suggested that businesses liked people who could speak another language; the desire to leave the estate had led her to choosing French, simply because she was already studying it. Had she been in the half of the year that was assigned German instead of French, she would have continued with German. Whatever helped her get off the estate quicker, she would do, even if it meant struggling with conjugations and words that had more vowels that they could feasibly use. It wasn't that she didn't like French, she just thought it could be simplified. Besides, she did enjoy speaking it when she the opportunity arose, which wasn't sadly wasn't often.

Jackie hummed in her throat and looked at her youngest daughter, eyes wet behind her mascara. "I'm really proud of you, Zoe."

Unexpected tears suddenly burned at her eyes. "Really?"

"Course I am, you plum," she said, reaching out for her. Zoe grasped her tea-warmed hand. "Nobody in the family's got their A-levels. You're goin' to be the first."

"If I pass them," she said, uncertainty sweeping through her because what if she failed? What if she wasn't as clever as she hoped she was? People like her weren't successful. Her entire life had shown her that.

"You will," Jackie said without hesitation. "You're the smartest person I know. You know all sorts of things I don't."

"You're smart too, Mum," she said, sitting forwards and squeezing her hand. "Really smart. Just 'cos you don't have A-levels doesn't mean you're not."

Jackie brushed away her words. "Y'know...I don't think I've ever been prouder than when you got into university." Her smile stretched across her face. "All five wanted my baby."

She blushed. " _Mum_."

"'Ere," Jackie said, "shift over."

It took a while as Zoe had to gather her revision material and push it to one side whilst keeping the order, juggling her tea at the same time. Eventually, mother and daughter sat side by side, legs stretched out in front of them, thighs pressed together. They felt the absence of Rose as she normally bracketed Jackie on the other side. Zoe's stomach gave a twist at the thought of leaving her alone. She gulped her tea to squash down the nausea, only succeeding in burning her throat.

"It was hard on you," Jackie said in the quiet surroundings of the pink bedroom that Zoe had always hated but never dared to paint over because of Rose. "The last year."

"It was hard on both of us," she corrected.

It wasn't something they spoke about now that Rose was back.

They didn't speak about the fear and the pain and the nights they spent crying into their pillows in the hope the other one didn't hear them. They didn't speak about how Zoe had got so drunk one night at a party that she had to have her stomach pumped and how they had a screaming fight in the middle of hospital ward with nurses and porters trying to get between them; they just didn't speak about it. They packed up the missing posters and took them to the recycling point and gone about their lives as though they hadn't believed Rose dead for a year.

"Do you really have to go with him?" Jackie asked, and Zoe stared down into her tea. "Sweetheart, it's so dangerous."

"I know," she whispered before clearing her throat. "I was there in Downin' Street. I know how dangerous it is."

"Then why?" Jackie asked desperately. "Why are you goin' when you've got so much to look forward to here?"

She raised her head to look at her mother. "How can I not go?"

"I don't understand."

"Five months ago," Zoe began, "I learnt that we're not alone. That the universe is teemin' with life. An' the Doctor offered to show it to me. He's offered me all of time an' space, right at my fingertips. How can anyone say no to that?"

"But, sweetheart –"

"Mum," Zoe interrupted, "if you don't want me to go...if you really don't want me to go. Then ask me, an' –" her voice wavered, "an' I won't go." Relief flooded Jackie's face. "But, please. I'm askin' you to _please_ not ask me to stay. Mum. Please. Don't ask me to stay."

She brushed away the tears that threatened to slip down her face. Jackie tipped her head back and stared up at the ceiling. She wanted to ask. She wanted to keep at least one daughter safe from the Doctor's life but Zoe had always been so sensible. Even as a child she had been more of a small adult than a child, so serious and quiet and thoughtful, so well-behaved and well-mannered, trotting along behind them all the time, eager to help and eager to be kind. She never asked for anything – not even at Christmas when Rose's letter to Santa would be three or four pages long even though she knew she wouldn't get it all; Zoe's was just a couple of lines: chocolate cake and a book. Every year, without fail, that was all she wanted.

And now she was asking for something.

Not telling, but asking, and Jackie wished that she was strong enough to say no in the face of her daughter's barely repressed emotion, but she wasn't.

"You just..." Jackie started, voice thick with tears. "You just promise me one thing."

Zoe sniffed and wiped her eyes with the collar of her shirt. "Anythin'."

"You promise me that you'll go to university," she said, because she wanted her to do that, she wanted Zoe to do what no one on the estate had done. "You won't let the Doctor distract you from that."

Her face lit up. "I promise. Mum, I promise."

"Well, okay then," Jackie said, bowing to the inevitable. "But you make him bring you home more often. I'm not waiting' until it pleases his lordship to come back. At least once a month."

"I think I can handle that," she grinned, setting down her tea before flinging her arms around her mother and hugging her tightly, face pressed in her dyed blonde hair. "Thank you, mum. Thank you so much."

Jackie hugged her back, feeling better than she had in months, wishing they had spoken about it sooner. She kissed her daughter's mass of curls. "Now. Lights out, I think. You've done enough studyin' for one day."

"But –"

"You won't do any good if you're tired," Jackie pointed out; Zoe grumbled and complained but she allowed her mother the victory. Jackie bent over and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, sweetheart."

"G'night, mum," she said, tiredness creeping in. "Love you."

* * *

For the next four weeks, Zoe thought about nothing except her exams.

Her life was limited to studying; practice exams; eating; sleeping; and, twice a week, going to work at McDonald's where she had worked ever since she turned sixteen and was old enough to get a job. Jackie suggested that she give the job up since she intended to leave soon and her exams were taking up her time, but Zoe actually enjoyed going into work and having six hours off twice a week when she could let her mind slip into autopilot and simply go through the motions. As strange as it seemed, she always felt relaxed after her shifts and more refreshed than before.

She left each exam with a feeling of deep uncertainty over whether or not she had answered the questions correctly, but she distracted herself by diving straight into the next subject to revise. She felt that she fumbled her way through her French oral, and that she might have confused one of the Plantegenet kings with a Tudor king by mistake in her history exam, but she couldn't remember if she had or not no matter how much she tried. She was fairly certain she calculated something wrong on her maths paper and the less said about her biology exam the better, but she didn't think the mistakes were too damaging.

With each exam that passed, the tension in her body started to drip away. What was done was done. Even if she had the TARDIS, she doubted that the Doctor would let her cross into her own personal time stream to change the past. Every science fiction show told her that doing something like that would create a paradox, and she watched City on the Edge of Forever to make sure. Although, the Doctor had been somewhat dismissive of using science fiction as a basis for understanding the TARDIS so maybe she was wrong.

She jotted the question down in her small A5 notebook underneath the list of other questions she wanted to ask the Doctor before tucking it away.

After months of studying, and four weeks of intensive revision, her last exam finally arrived towards the end of June. The day was bright and warm, and she walked to her college whilst nervously fiddling with the strap on her bag as she went through everything one last time, her mouth dry and skin tight. She entered the exam centre and loitered in the corner against one white wall, muttering to herself as she tried to make sure she hadn't missed anything even though it was too late to do anything about it.

Finally, it was time.

Her last exam was English Literature, a subject she had chosen simply because she liked books. She sat down at her marked desk and nervously toyed with her pens, pencils, and rubbers as the exam papers were handed out. She watched the clock tick closer and closer to the starting time until, finally, she could start. She opened the sharp, clean paper with its exam smell and looked at the first question.

Read the passage from _Othello_ , provided below, and respond to the following:

How does Shakespeare present aspects of love in this passage?

Examine the view that, in this passage and elsewhere in the play, 'as wives, Emilia and Desdemona have much in common.'

She took a deep breath and started to work.

For one hour and thirty minutes, she worked through the questions in the paper: transitioning from analysing Shakespeare to analysing poetry. She took care to check her answers thoroughly, correcting any spelling mistakes and reworking sentences so that her points were stronger; she set her pen down five minutes before the end. When the time expired, she leaned back in her chair and breathed a sigh of relief, grinning up at the tiled ceiling.

After the exam, she joined her classmates for a celebratory drink at the nearest bar.

The drink turned into an all-night celebration, and Zoe, not normally known for her social life, ended up stumbling home at four in the morning, waking Jackie up when she tripped over her own feet and face-planted the ground. Laughing, Jackie scooped her daughter up from the ground and deposited her in the bathroom. Whilst the sound of retching filled the flat, she made some dry toast and a cup of tea. Zoe eventually shuffled out looking as though she had been dragged through a hedge backwards, and Jackie wished that she had a camera to hand.

When Zoe woke up in the late afternoon, her hangover sent her diving back beneath the covers where she groaned, feeling sorry for herself.

Her mother's laughter did not help.

* * *

When Zoe eventually recovered from her hangover, a process which included lying prone on the sofa, wrapped up in her duvet, watching afternoon TV that, happily, included Murder, She Wrote, Jackie surprised her with a gift.

"What's this then?" She asked the next morning as they sat together in the sun-bright kitchen where the remnants of their full English breakfast littered the table between them. Jackie passed the plain white envelope across the table to her, **Zoe** written in her mother's open handwriting.

Jackie rolled her eyes, lips curving upwards fondly. "Just open it, you plum."

She worked her little finger carefully under the seam of the enveloped and pried it open, jerking her finger along, leaving ragged paper mountains in her wake. She slipped her fingers inside and pulled out a generic card from down the post office. She discarded the torn envelope next to her cup of tea that was sending soft heat up into the air. It was a congratulations card; she grinned at it, delighted by the thoughtfulness and the colourful balloons that decorated the front that were held by a grinning orangutan.

She opened the card and something fell out.

It nearly dropped into her beans, but her forearm caught it at the last minute, knocking the trajectory of it into her lap. She set the card down to look at in a few moments and plucked the paper object from her lap: not money, and not a cheque, not that she had been expecting anything as money was perpetually tight in the Tyler household. She turned it over in her hands, and it took her a few seconds to realise what she was holding. It was two tickets for a return journey on the Eurostar – destination: Paris, France. Even after she realised what she held in her hands, it took another few moments to realise what it actually meant. Her head snapped up so fast that her neck cracked, and she gaped at Jackie, who was looking very pleased with herself.

"Mum!" She exclaimed.

"I know you're off to see the universe with himself soon enough," Jackie started through a smile, "but I figured me an' you could do somethin' first."

"Mum, you can't afford this," she protested, torn between delight at the prospect of a weekend trip to Paris and guilt that her mother might have spent more money than she could reasonably afford on such a thing.

Family holidays had never been a thing in the Tyler family. They visited their grandparents in Essex but then Granddad Prentice had died and Grandma Prentice preferred to come into London as an excuse to get out of the small retirement flat she lived in, and the Tyler grandparents had died when Zoe was little. Rose had once gone on a trip to France but that had ended with her being sent home early due to an unauthorised expedition to Marseilles with Shareen, but Jackie hadn't had a stable job when Zoe was at school and school trips were on offer. Her hours had been cut at the hairdressers and the dole didn't exactly cover trips abroad.

"Yes, I can," Jackie replied. "I've been savin' ever since you started college. Just a little bit, here an' there, when I could, but I was always goin' to give it to you."

Zoe's face was suffused with happiness and excitement. She clutched the gift to her chest and stared at her mother.

"An' we get to go together?" She asked hopefully.

Jackie nodded.

Zoe let out a sound that she didn't know she was capable of making. She jumped up from her chair and fell over the table in her eagerness to wrap her mother in a hug. Jackie laughed at her enthusiasm, pleased right through to her bones that her daughter liked the gift as much as she hoped she would; she nearly tipped back off her chair under the force of Zoe's hug. It wasn't much, the gift; nothing like she wanted to be able to give her, but a weekend in Paris, just the two of them, seemed like a nice way to spend their last weekend together before she went off in the TARDIS with the Doctor and Rose.

"When do we leave?" Zoe asked when she finally pulled back after nearly strangling her with her enthusiasm.

"Tomorrow morning," she said, picking up her tea with hands that trembled from happiness and relief. "So you might want to pack. I'll dig out the passports."

Zoe turned where she stood, excited. "This is brilliant, Mum. Really brilliant. Thank you!"

* * *

Over three days, Zoe and Jackie explored Paris.

Mickey gave them a lift to St Pancras on the morning of their departure with a promise to pick them up on their way back, and they had hopped onto their scheduled Eurostar, Zoe buzzing with excitement at leaving the country for the first time. The furthest from London she had ever been was a trip to Bristol as part of a mathematics competition that she had been part of. She had commandeered Mickey's laptop after Jackie had given her her gift and had Googled everything that she wanted to do. She had the list of things written neatly down in her notebook that was tucked securely in her bag next to her passport and French phrasebook, which Jackie had protested about because _you speak French, you nutter_.

It took about three hours to get to Paris, and by the time they arrived, Zoe was climbing the walls with excitement. She grabbed Jackie's hand and pulled her from the train, doubling back when she realised that she had forgotten about their bags in her excitement. She bounced up and down on her toes as they moved with the crowd of people that pushed towards the exit, business people and tourists alike. She wondered whether, one day, she would be among the crowd of business people arriving in the city for work. Her stomach knotted with hopeful excitement, liking the image it created in her mind.

When they exited the Gare du Nord, she stopped and stared up at the bright blue sky that was brushed lightly with white clouds. She then looked down at the ground beneath her feet and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet, turning to grin at Jackie who was watching her with an air of bemusement.

"I'm in another country!"

"Yeah, you are," Jackie agreed, before reaching out and tugging her out of the way. "You're also in the way."

"Oops!"

They stopped off at their hotel, which was a little out of the way but cheaper than staying right in the centre of Paris. It gave Zoe the opportunity to speak French to an actual French person for the first time, which she had never done before. She finished the conversation, pleased that she hadn't embarrassed herself too badly, although the receptionist seemed patiently amused with her. As soon as Jackie was ready, Zoe dragged her back out onto the streets of Paris, babbling away at a hundred miles an hour about the history of France and what she hoped to see and how they needed to try a canalé. Jackie just followed along, happy that her daughter was happy and ready to follow her lead in whatever she wanted to do during their three days in Paris. They walked around the city exploring the historic walks and streets that wove through the old quarter, and they stopped for lunch at a café along the river.

"Well, I can't read this," Jackie said as she stared at the menu. She set it down and looked at Zoe whose curly head was bowed over the menu. That familiar feeling of regret at knowing that she would soon leave tugged at her. "You order for me."

Zoe looked up. "Yeah?"

"Just no snails."

She laughed and ordered them both a Caesar salad. Jackie took the opportunity to rest her feet before they were off again, visiting the catacombs beneath the city. The stacked skulls peered out at them from the dim gloom, and Zoe whispered the translation of the tour guide into Jackie's ear as they walked along with their tour group. Jackie thought it was strange and disrespectful to disturb the dead just so that they could free up space in cemeteries. It made more sense to find a way to dispose of the newly dead rather than disturbing the long dead. She also tried to avoid touching the skulls; although, she noted that Zoe looked around surreptitiously before she extended a slim finger and poked one. When she noticed that her mother was watching, she grinned sheepishly.

After the catacombs, Zoe bundled them onto the last tour bus of the day, pressing Euros into the ticket sellers hand, and pulling Jackie onto the open top deck. It was much more preferable to tour the city by bus in Jackie's opinion as her feet had the opportunity to rest; Zoe was pressed up against her side, still and calm for once as she listened to the recorded tour guide through headphones in French. Watching the city pass slowly by as night began to fall and it lit up like a thousand sparkling fireflies erupting into life, Jackie believed she could only feel happier if Rose was there with them.

Even though Zoe wanted to continue exploring, Jackie was able to persuade her that they should sit down and eat dinner. They went to a cheerful bistro not far from where the tour bus dropped them off, and Zoe accidentally engaged the old man sitting next to them in conversation to such an extent that the man joined them for dinner. Although Jackie spoke no French, she was happy to sit back and watch as her daughter spoke quickly and confidently in the language with the old man who seemed charmed by her. Watching them converse, and looking at how happy Zoe was, Jackie knew that she had made the right decision to save for the trip and bring her there.

Her daughter was intelligent and kind but she was very shy sometimes, and she could be very introverted. If something frightened her, she retreated into herself. She wasn't like Rose who threw herself into situations without a second thought; Zoe had to think things through and sometimes she overthought them to such an extent that she missed the opportunity to do them. She also wasn't as confident as Rose. Zoe always second guessed herself, believing that she wasn't good enough. Jackie hoped she hadn't contributed to that feeling, but it was hard to tell with her. Seeing her sitting in a bistro in France, talking and laughing in French, was like looking into the future.

Jackie was proud.

After a delicious meal that was generously paid for by the old man that Zoe had charmed, despite protestations on both of their parts, they decided to take a lazy walk back to their hotel. They fell asleep easily that night in their shared room, and Jackie wished that she had slept longer because Zoe woke her up at 8am the next morning with a cup of tea and a croissant that she had bought from the bakery down the street. Zoe waited as patiently as she could before eventually she lost her patience and threatened to drag Jackie out onto the street without her make-up on.

They passed under the Arc de Triomphe and walked down the Champs-Elysée to the Tuileries Garden. They strolled through it, talking, laughing, and taking pictures on one of the many disposable cameras they had bought with them. Zoe planned to get them developed and put them into a photo album she would take with her on the TARDIS when the Doctor arrived to collect her. After lunch, they went to the one place that Zoe had been most eager to visit out of everything in Paris.

The Louvre.

Rose was the artist in the family. Her talent with a pencil and paint was unrivalled, and it was a shame that she hadn't had the opportunity to develop it further due to Jimmy Stone and then a minimum wage job to pay off the debt he had left her with. However, whilst Rose was the artist, Zoe appreciated art and she liked the history of it. She had wanted to study History of Art for A-level, but it hadn't fit in with her plan and so she had let it slip from between her fingers. Once or twice a year though, she would visit the various galleries in London in order to stare at the pictures and learn the history behind the paint.

"It's a bit ugly, innit?" Jackie said as they approached the iconic glass pyramid that stood in front of the Louvre, beckoning people towards it.

Zoe just laughed and linked arms with her.

The pyramid sparkled and gleamed under the sun as they walked past it, the creation towering over them and sending warm waves off heat off of it. The building itself was once a palace in the 14th century but, before that, when it was first built, it stood as a fortress and the architecture represented both uses. The practicalities of a fortress in its open, rectangular layout, but the rich ornateness of the aristocracy with its elegant facade and sleek turrets. She couldn't help but wonder what it was like when it had been first built and a wave of pure, unadulterated excitement hit her when she realised that she would actually be able to visit in.

She dug around for her Doctor notebook and jotted the idea down in the back under a list of places and time periods that she wanted to visit if he was open to suggestions.

They entered the museum through the Richelieu Wing and, after a bit of back and forth over the best way to explore the museum, they decided to take the Welcome to the Louvre tour in French. Zoe protested that Jackie wouldn't be able to understand, but she wasn't that interested in the history of the paintings, and anything that was interesting Zoe could tell her.

"We're in France, sweetheart," Jackie said. "You might as well use your French."

To see the pictures and sculptures that she had only heard about and seen in books and on the Internet was thrilling. The Mona Lisa was brilliant in person – though difficult to see through the crowds of people –, as was the Venus de Milo and the Winged Victory of Samothrace. Jackie seemed to appreciate the visual aspect even if she didn't care for the history behind it. Towards the end of the tour, Jackie wandered away from the group while Zoe contemplated the logistics of taking a picture in front of the portraits when her mother was at her side, hissing at her to follow her. Slipping away from the group was easy and Jackie led her across the room to a framed picture hanging on the wall in front of them.

"Oh my god," Zoe said, mouth dropping open as she stared up at a beautifully painted picture of a person who could only be –

"That's you," Jackie hissed in her ear, eyes darting about wildly.

Before knowing about time travel, neither of them would have even considered for a single second that the woman in the painting could possibly be Zoe. They would have laughed and marvelled over the resemblance but they wouldn't have thought it was possible. However, with the Doctor barrelling into their lives in his bigger-on-the-inside time machine, anything was possible.

Anything, including a picture of Zoe Tyler hanging in the Louvre.

Except, it wasn't Zoe as she had ever looked before.

The picture, _Mon cherí_ , had been painted around 1759 by Madame de Pompadour, the uncrowned queen of France. It showed Zoe in a beautiful red dress that brought out the colour of her skin. Her hair was long and curly, thick and uncontrollable around her face, and the curls fell across her forehead. She looked to be sat on a bench outside but it was hard to tell as the background was deliberately blurred as though it had been painted through a haze of memories. Madame de Pompadour had captured a relaxed, curious expression on Zoe's face and brought out the warm orange-red undertones of her skin.

She looked beautiful.

"Why are you in a painting?" Jackie asked in her ear as though Zoe knew, but she could only shrug helplessly, fingers twitching to her bag to find her phone but she quelled the urge. It was unlikely the Doctor would have any explanation either.

"I suppose I'm going to visit France in the 18th century at some point and sit for a painting," Zoe said although, even as the words left her mouth the ridiculousness of them wrapped around her.

She was talking about time travel as though it was something normal to her.

"That's bonkers," her mother said, shaking her head. "Because that's you."

"Yeah, that's me, alright," Zoe agreed, a little numb around the edges.

"What's it mean?" Jackie asked, leaning to look at the title and butchering the pronunciation. "Mon – cherry?"

"My darling," she translated. "Hold on."

She swept quickly across the gallery and abruptly interrupted the loquacious tour guide to ask a question. "Excuse me, I'm sorry. Can you tell me about a picture over here?"

The tour guide was surprised, mouth opened around a word, but he nodded and followed her across the room to the painting, the group coming with him like ducklings following their mother. Standing in front of the painting, everyone understood her interest in it. The resemblance was striking as they were one in the same person but to the others it was just an unusual quirk of fate. Murmurs of interest arose, and they all turned to the tour guide who examined the painting and then Zoe with great interest, shaking his head in amazement.

"The resemblance is very strange," The tour guide, Jean-Pierre, murmured.

"Yes, it is," Zoe agreed with an edge of impatience to her voice that she tried to quell, wrapping her mouth around the French language. "But can you tell me about this woman? Who is she?"

"Nobody is sure," Jean-Pierre answered. "There are a number of theories. One, this woman was a lover of Madame de Pompadour. Look at the lack of jewellery. It was unusual for a woman in this time to be without jewellery, except between close friends or with lovers, and it has long been suspected that those in the court of Louis XV entertained more... _curious_ appetites."

' _Gay_ ,' Zoe mouthed silently to Jackie who raised her eyebrows.

"Two, she was the daughter of Louis XV, though that is not a theory that holds much sway amongst academics," he admitted. "Three, and the one I think most likely, she was the product of a dream _._ "

Zoe nodded, biting back on the questions she had that she knew he couldn't answer. "And the title? My darling? What does that mean _?_ "

"Ah, yes, it's why I think this woman was a dream _._ " Jean-Pierre replied, tapping his lip thoughtfully. _"_ My darling. It is said that in the last years of her life Madame de Pompadour believed herself to be involved in a relationship with a woman that, historical documents show, never existed. Many believe that she experienced hallucinations and had trouble distinguishing fact from reality. This woman was most likely the product of an imagiation fevered by illness."

 _Or not,_ Zoe thought to herself, and she thanked the tour guide before taking Jackie's arm and walking away from the painting as quickly as she could.

They left the Louvre and stepped out into the early evening sun. It felt strange to move from the window that looked into her future to her present where none of that had happened yet. She had to sit down and when she was unable to find a bench she just sat down on the cool ground and rested her head between her knees, fingers knotted over the back of her neck. She heard movement; Jackie grunted as she joined her daughter on the floor, a familiar and comforting hand stroking through her hair, pressing against her scalp and Zoe felt the tight tension that had gripped her drain from her body.

She peeked up at her mother.

"The guide said that the woman in the paintin' was either the object of a dream, the illegitimate daughter of the King of France, or..." Zoe hesitated, oddly embarrassed. "Madame de Pompadour's lover."

Jackie blinked. "Well, you're definitely not the daughter of a king."

"An' it wasn't a dream," she said. "I'm obviously going to meet Madame de Pompadour at some point in the future."

"You don't have to have sex with her though," Jackie said matter-of-factly, and Zoe stared at her before she started laughing.

"No," she said between her laughter, "I s'pose I don't."

"This is mad," Jackie said, not finding the situation as funny as Zoe did.

"Completely bonkers," she agreed happily.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Despite the sheer strangeness of finding a painting of herself hanging on the walls in the Louvre, their weekend in Paris was a lot of fun. Jackie was exhausted by the end of it as she hadn't walked so much in years, and Zoe slept the entire way home on the Eurostar. She curled up like a sleeping cat against the window and fell asleep with her mouth slack as soft exhalations of breath fogged the window. She had to be tipped into the back of Mickey's car when they arrived back in London to find him waiting for them, flipping through a dog-eared trade show magazine. He was interested in their trip but only needed to ask one question before Zoe, now wide awake, happily related everything that they had done before ending with the picture of her in a dramatic flourish that made Jackie hide her smile.

"Wait," Mickey said, his eyes meeting hers in the rear view mirror as Jackie ate her way through a bag of salt and vinegar crisps he kept in his glove compartment for emergencies. "How can there be a picture of you in a museum?"

"Time travel."

"Yeah, but, you haven't done it yet," he said.

She rolled her eyes.

"I don't know how it works, Micks," she said. "I assume there's a reason for it. Ask the Doctor if you want to know."

Mickey snorted. "Sure. I'll do that if I fancy bein' made to feel stupid for ten minutes before he gets annoyed an' kicks me out the TARDIS."

They got back to London on the 25th June, and Zoe spent the next five days preparing herself for her upcoming journey. Rose promised her that she would have everything she needed on the TARDIS as it came fully stocked with a wardrobe and, more excitingly, a library. However, she still packed a bag of clothes – her favourite jeans, a couple of warm jumpers that she liked to relax in, _underwear –_ and she spent some of her meagre savings on a pair of good quality boots that she spent the time waiting for the Doctor breaking in because she did not want to deal with blisters when on an alien planet.

From her brief experience of the Doctor's life, a good pair of shoes appeared to be a necessity as there was an outrageous amount of running involved.

Rose sent her a text message at 11.36pm the night before they were expected, and it said that she and the Doctor would land on the estate at 10am on 1st July. Zoe didn't expect to sleep through the night due to her excitement, reminding of her when she was a child and she and Rose would try to stay awake for as long as they could; to her surprise, she did fall asleep, and she slept the whole night through. When she awoke to her 8am alarm, she stared up at the ceiling that had greeted her every morning for her entire life and grinned from ear to ear, happiness and excitement crashing through her like waves on the shore.

She kicked the covers from her body and rolled out of bed. She twitched the thick curtains and peeked out of them. She was pleased that it was a beautiful, blue day as she didn't want to leave when it was raining. She wanted everything to be perfect on the morning that she left. She made her bed quickly, tugging the duvet so that it lay straight, and adjusting the pillows before bounding to the shower. She showered and dressed in record time before she set about making breakfast for her, Jackie, and Mickey, who trudged down the concrete stairs to join them while they waited.

The kitchen and living room windows were wide open, letting a warm, fresh breeze wind its way through the flat that Zoe had cleaned from top to bottom in a fit of restlessness the day before, unable to sit and watch TV and simply wait for time to pass in an agonisingly linear fashion. Her eyes kept drifting to the cheap IKEA clock on the wall while Mickey asked Jackie about how things were going with her new boyfriend Howard, expertly avoiding her questions in return as rumour had it that he had been seen kissing Margot Fennerman behind the Stag's Head the other night; everyone seemed to have quietly accepted that Rose and Mickey's relationship had died a death in the year of Rose's absence.

Zoe's knee bounced nervously as she drank cup of tea after cup of tea. The anticipation was the worst. Her lack of faith in the Doctor's piloting ability also played into her nervousness. After all, he was the man who had bought Rose home twelve months late. She didn't have much faith that he would be able to hit the mark for her but, to everyone's surprise, at exactly 10am, the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS materialising could be faintly heard as it wheezed and groaned into existence on the concrete courtyard below.

Relief flooded through her.

She pressed her lips together and lifted her fourth cup of tea to her mouth, excitement dripping from her. Despite the Doctor's promise and Rose's occasional texts while they had been away, a large, silent part of Zoe had been afraid that the Doctor would either be late, or he would forget his promise to her, or he would simply change his mind and decide that he didn't want her to travel with him. The fact that he arrived precisely when he had said he would filled her with an emotion that she had never felt before and couldn't put a name to, but it felt good.

The front door open under the turn of a key and the universe swept into the nondescript London flat with Rose's familiar, happy voice calling out to her family.

"I'm home!"

Jackie met her before she could even enter the living room, catching her firstborn daughter in a huge hug, forcing the bag that Rose held in her hand to drop to the carpeted floor with a dull thud that indicated there was more than clothes contained within. Rose laughed under the assault and hugged her mother back, grinning at her sister and Mickey over Jackie's shoulders. Rose good-naturedly accepted Jackie giving her the once over, holding her by her shoulders to make sure that she was healthy and uninjured. Only when Jackie was satisfied did she let her daughter go, and Zoe found herself with her arms full of her older sister, breathing in the familiar scent of her favourite shampoo and lilac perfume.

"How were your exams?" Rose asked when she pulled back just enough to be able to look at Zoe straight on, her brown eyes warm and soft.

"Good, I think," she said, enjoying being under her sister's attention, having missed her deeply over the last eighteen months. They might have seen each other five months before but they had barely had time to catch up and indulge in their usual late night chats under the duvet before she was whisked off to witness a horseshed nebula...or _the_ Horsehead Nebula; she couldn't remember which. "I'm glad they're over. I thought my mind was goin' to explode I was studyin' so much."

"Not that brain of yours," Rose laughed, rapping her knuckles against Zoe's forehead, making her groan and try to pull but she was already off, throwing herself on Mickey and hugging him tightly, her trainer clad feet lifting from the floor in response to the enthusiasm of her somewhat-maybe-not-quite boyfriend.

Zoe looked around, curious to see if the Doctor had decided to join them or if he had decided to wait in the TARDIS until they were ready to leave. Her mouth curved into a small smile when she saw him edging awkwardly into the room, appearing uncertain as to whether or not he was welcomed there, and her heart gave a small, gentle tug at the unguarded expression on his face. He looked like a little boy used to being left out in the cold. As soon as he realised that she was watching though, the expression was swept from his face, and he grinned at her with his large hands buried deep in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Jackie caught sight of him just after Zoe, missing the exposed expression on his face, and a grimace passed across her features. She made a sound in her throat that was a mixture of displeasure at having him there in her flat and reluctant acceptance of his presence as the price of having her daughter home. She wiped her hands on her grey sweatpants and moved towards the small kitchen, talking over her shoulder to everyone.

"I'll put the kettle on," she said. "Two sugars, right, Doctor?"

He cleared his throat, obviously surprised at being included. He nodded and his words came out a little stiff, as though he was unaccustomed to saying them.

"Thanks, Jackie."

"Blimey," Zoe teased, closing the distance between them across the old, worn carpet in her sock-covered feet. "You haven't gone domestic on us, have you?"

The burgeoning expression of happiness at seeing her again dropped like a sack of bricks from his face, and his features rearranged into a deep scowl that made her laugh. She gently nudged him in the ribs with her elbow when she stood next to him, and the scowl faded as quickly as it appeared when he realised that she was gently teasing him and there was no bite to her words. The happiness crept back into his eyes and the lines around his eyes and mouth. She had forgotten just how tall he was as she had to tilt her head back to look up into his face.

"Exams over?" He asked.

"Finished 'em last week," she nodded, looking away from him as she felt unaccountably shy in front of him, fearing that one wrong word would have him rescinding his invitation to her. She forced the thoughts from her mind. "What about you? Got into any trouble since we last saw each other?"

"Actually, no," the Doctor said with a touch of pride that had him straightening his broad shoulders. "Then again, it's only been three weeks for us."

She bit down on her smile although her eyes sparkled with amusement. "You always take the shortcut?"

"No sense in not using a time machine when I have one," he said sensibly, pushing away from the wall he had been holding up to accept a cup of tea from Jackie who handed it to him with perfectly restrained civility.

Jackie carried the tea over to the rest of them, and they settled on the sofa and armchairs while they caught each other up on everything that had happened in their time apart. Rose was interested in hearing about their trip to France, amazed that her mother had thought of such a gift as she didn't like travelling too far as it was too much of an effort. Zoe happily launched into a complete rendition of their trip to France, leaving out the painting of her that hung in the portrait at the Louvre. Jackie caught her eye and raised her eyebrows, but Zoe shook her head minutely. She didn't know why she didn't want the Doctor to know' perhaps she worried that he would take some of the magic away from the moment and give her a scientific explanation that would ruin her first experience with time travel.

Ever since their return, Zoe had grown fond of the idea that she knew something about her future. She might not know the full details but she did know that she would, at some point in her life, meet Madame de Pompadour; she didn't want the purity of that knowledge, whether it turned out to be good or bad, to be taken from her. Instead, she turned the attention around onto Rose and asked to hear about where she had been travelling in the three weeks they had been gone.

Rose wove the stories of her three weeks in the TARDIS together like she was standing in front of a canvas, painting it for them, smoothing the colours together so that they were on the edge of their seats listening to wonders that they hadn't known to imagine about. Rose had always been the best story teller. She created the most wonderful stories for Zoe when they were children lying in bed together, the duvet pulled over their heads; Zoe happily followed her sister down whatever rabbit hole her stories led them on. The universe was brought into their flat, and they heard about the glittering fields of Arcadia, and the cloud seas of Jekkar. They imagined they could taste the crumbling pastry of apple turnovers on Eternal Hope and hear the songs of Agora wrapping around them. They walked alongside Rose and the Doctor through the beautiful jungles of Corpos Delta, home to a species of intelligent herbivores with whom they had stayed for three days to celebrate the Festival of the Sun.

Even Jackie, who couldn't understand why her daughters were so eager to travel in the TARDIS with the mad alien, was enthralled.

They stayed for a lunch of fish and chips that Mickey and the Doctor stepped out to get in order to give the women time together as a family before returning to eat their lunch in the Tyler flat that was filled with love and the cool breeze that drifted in from the open windows that kept them refreshed. Even the Doctor joined in the conversation at one point, making them all cry with laughter about a story of a time he had got stuck in a recurring time loop with badger pirates on a intergalactic cruise ship. All of them were clutching their sides with laughter, falling out of their seats, when he finished telling his story and Jackie, when she rose to put the kettle on again, squeezed his shoulder as she passed, not realising that she had done so.

The Doctor looked down at his knees and smiled.

It was three in the afternoon before it was decided that it was time to make way. Their lunch was long over, and they had moved onto general gossip that Zoe had heard a hundred times before and Rose nodded along to with a vague ear to actually hearing the news. The Doctor turned to Zoe where they sat next to each other on the sofa.

"You ready to go then?" He asked with a voice intended only for her ears.

"My bag's all packed," Zoe said, her happy lethargy at being surrounded by good company and with a full stomach was replaced by the now familiar excitement coursing through her veins. She felt herself become dizzy now that the time was actually upon her. She swallowed, her mouth dry. "I'm bringin' clothes an' a photo album. Is there anythin' else I need? I forgot to ask."

"Nah," he shook his head, stretching his legs out in front of him. "The TARDIS'll have anything you've forgotten."

"Brilliant. Fantastic, even," she said, tripping over her words; she blushed when he raised his eyebrows, amused at her obvious delight. "I'm a little excited."

His face, which was quite a stern and strict face, softened around the edges and stretched into a smile that was sincere and honest in its happiness. "Good."

Despite how accepting Jackie had been over the last month since her conversation with Zoe the night before her French exam, and particularly how accepting she had been in the last week – and that afternoon when she had more than tolerated the Doctor – she was still reluctant to let Zoe go. She seemed to have accepted that Rose would do as Rose would do but there was a deep unwillingness in her when it came to finally taking Zoe and her single bag out of the flat and down to the TARDIS, parked neatly in the same spot that it had occupied last time.

Zoe felt a smile wash across her face as they approached the TARDIS, her arm linked with Jackie's, and she stepped away from her mother to walk up to the wonderful blue box. She set her palm flat against the painted blue wood and felt the warmth of it sink into her skin, imagining a hum of sentience as she did so. Gently, she stroked down the side and murmured a small _hello_ to the ship, feeling a little embarrassed as she stepped back from it.

The Doctor turned his key in the lock and opened the door inwards. He was surprised when Jackie slipped past him. A look of utter horror gripped his face before he could stop it from becoming visible, and he tumbled in after her, whether to demand what she was doing or to remove her by force, he didn't know. She stood at the top of the ramp, arms folded across her chest, shivering in the cavernous control room, not from the cold as it was fairly mild within the walls, but simply from how unquestionably alien it was. He might look like a bloke from the up north but there was no denying that the TARDIS was alien.

"Well?" Jackie demanded, trying to ignore her surroundings and how out of place she felt in them. The Doctor just stared at her, uncomprehendingly. "I take it my daughter has a bedroom in this ship of yours. Unless you're plannin' to make her sleep on the floor."

A sharp, cutting remark jumped to his tongue but Rose just laughed, the warmth of her laughter cutting through the tension that had appeared, and she came up the ramp behind him with Mickey and Zoe following.

"I'll show them, Doctor," she said easily. "Won't be long."

The Doctor grimaced, and Rose struggled to hide her smile as she distracted her mother, leaving her alien friend rubbing the back of his head. He turned to Mickey so that he could avoid the domesticity that had crept onto his TARDIS without him realising it.

Rose led her mother and sister out of the control room and into the TARDIS itself. Whilst the control room had an organic feel to it with coral struts rising from the floor like a tree sprouting from the earth, the internal corridors of the TARDIS were perfectly functional: smooth silver-grey walls with round lights mounted up near the ceiling, a few doors here and there. It was exactly what Zoe imagined the inside of a spaceship would look like and a bit more grounding than the sheer magnificence of the control room. The thing that was most disorientating was the fact that the TARDIS actually stretched back beyond the control room, an incredible feat that she wanted to understand more of. The fact that a whole world could be contained within the small confines of a 1960s police public call box was overwhelming. She wondered how far back the TARDIS went, whether there was a limit to it or whether it stretched on indefinitely, and she made a mental note to jot that down in her Doctor notebook.

Rose brought them to a stop outside of a polished wooden door that had Zoe's name written on it, mounted on a gold plaque. The door was obviously out of place, and she looked to her sister who just stepped back and grinned, waiting for her. Zoe stepped forward and placed her hand on the round, black metal handle and twisted.

Astonishment swept through her and wouldn't let go.

The room was everything she had always wanted from a bedroom. Soft white walls with colourful orange and red paintings on the wall to add warmth and earthiness; space had been made for books up near the ceiling, and she noted that there were already books stacked neatly there; fairy lights were draped across the ceiling; green plants were settled on flat surfaces, and they contributed a soft, delicate smell to the room and filled her with a feeling of relaxed peacefulness; and, finally, a large bed had been pushed into the corner, decorated with a plethora of cushions in reds, oranges, and browns.

It was as though her dream bedroom had been plucked from her mind and made a reality. The only difference from her dream was that there were windows against one wall and, through those windows, there were stars.

"At least he has decent taste," Jackie said, looking around the room with great interest, while Zoe set her bag down on her bed and stuck her head into the en-suite bathroom, which was, again, everything she had always wanted – a deep bathtub, a separate shower, and warm, autumn colours that she wanted to wrap around herself.

"He's better than you think, Mum," Rose said, peering at the paintings on the wall before turning to look at her sister who looked as though she had been slugged over the head with a baseball bat. "How you feeling, Zo? Excited?"

"Oh, you know," Zoe shrugged, trying to go for casual but failing completely when only a second later when her face split into a wide grin. "Yeah!"

Jackie shook her head, almost amused. "What did I bring up?"

She laughed when her daughters wrapped her in a hug, squashing her between them, and she tried to hold onto the moment, treasuring it, because she didn't know when she would have it again. She wiped at her eyes and set about helping Zoe unpack her things, though it didn't take long as she had only brought onboard a couple of pairs of jeans, socks, underwear, and the majority of her T-shirts.

When they could no longer delay returning to the control room, Jackie reluctantly suggested heading back. On their way back, Rose pointed out the kitchen to Zoe and told her to help herself to anything that was in there, but the Doctor would give her a proper tour later if she wanted, which she did very much want. She felt that she would be content to spend days and days exploring the TARDIS before she even gave any thought to stepping out onto alien worlds or back in time, and she believed that it would be impossible to feel bored when onboard the incredible ship.

They re-entered the control room to find Mickey and the Doctor arguing about football, which was the most human thing Zoe had seen or heard the Doctor do. He looked up at their entrance, impatience to get going showing in the fine lines around his eyes; he spoke without giving them time to answer.

"Right, are we done?" He asked brusquely. "In that case, unless you plan on coming with us Jackie –"

"Fat chance of that, you daft bugger," Jackie interrupted him, making his mouth snap shut irritably. Clearly, he was a man not used to being interrupted. Jackie turned to her daughters and stretched out her arms, hugging Zoe tightly to her.

Zoe held onto her and pressed her face into her warm, familiar smelling neck. "I love you."

"I love you," Jackie whispered into her hair before pulling back and looking at her, brushing her curls back from her face and gently stroking her cheek with her thumb. "Just remember, when you end up in 18th century France, you don't need to have sex with her."

Confusion whipped across the Doctor's face. Although Jackie had spoken quietly enough for only Zoe to hear her, the Doctor's superior hearing picked up her words and left him with a feeling of complete bewilderment. He shook his head, like a dog shaking the water from its fur after a bath.

"What?"

"Never you mind," Jackie said tartly, squeezing Zoe before hugging Rose again and then turning to face the Doctor. "You just make sure you bring my daughters home to me safely, Doctor. Because if you don't –"

"I know, I know," he grumbled. "Now, if you'll please leave so we can get going."

Jackie clucked her tongue. "Rude."

"See you, Zo," Mickey grinned, kissing the top of her head.

"See you, Micks."

Zoe stood at the top of the grated ramp and watched as her mother and friend left the TARDIS. She caught a brief view of them and raised her hand to wave goodbye. The door clicked shut behind them, blocking the view of her family and the estate from her.

A feeling of sadness slipped over her like a cloak; unexpected given how excited she was, and how much she'd been looking forward to starting her travels in the TARDIS. As she had said to Mickey that night a month ago, everyone left home eventually but she still felt sad. She had been enjoying her life after the shroud of mystery surrounding Rose's disappearance was lifted, and, once she and Jackie had found their truce, life had been normal and peaceful with regular life surprises keeping things just that little bit interesting. She wasn't allowed to feel sad for long though as the TARDIS started to wheeze and groan around her, giving her a few seconds warning before her stomach lurched.

"Oh, god, I'd forgotten about this part," Zoe groaned, sadness chased away by the nausea that made her eyes dart for another umbrella stand or _anything_ as her fish and chips threatened to make a violent comeback; her fingers flexed against the cool coral. "Don't s'pose you have another umbrella stand, do you, Doctor?"

"It'll balance out in a second," the Doctor promised, and she held her breath, focusing on something other that the fish and chips roiling in her stomach.

One second she felt as though she was at sea being tossed about in strong winds, and the next there was a gentle shift beneath her feet and she felt as though she was butter being spread over bread, smooth and even. She remained in her bent-double position a moment long, waiting, before she straightened up.

"Oh."

"We've just entered the Time Vortex," he told her, stepping back from the console to look at her as she rubbed her stomach, the desire to vomit everything in it having been quelled by smooth seas; Or rather, by smooth time. She would have to ask him what the correct expression was. "You should feel fine as long as we're in the Vortex."

She remained doubtful, remembering with perfect clarity how she had thrown up everything in her stomach the first time she travelled in the TARDIS. The fact that it had just been across London was a cause for concern – if her nausea was that bad for a short hop, she didn't want to imagine how bad it was going to be when they were heading to an alien planet or travelling through time.

"An' when we're not in the Vortex?" She asked.

"I've got a thing for that," he said and paused, cocking his head at her thoughtfully. "Actually, better do that now rather than later. I don't want you vomiting over my TARDIS. Come on, Zoe Tyler."

She fell into step behind him, one hand still pressed against her stomach, frightened its contents wouldn't stay down unless she applied pressure. Rose linked their arms together with a bright grin. Seeing Rose's happiness at having her there eased a tension she had been unaware of. Apparently, unbeknownst to her, her subconscious had been worried about her sister's reaction to her joining them; sometimes, when they were little, Rose would pitch the biggest tantrums when Zoe wanted to join in what her sister and her friends were doing – travelling through time and space was so much more interesting than talking about boys at Keisha's and Zoe would have understood if she had wanted to keep it to herself.

The Doctor led them through the smooth corridors to a grey door on the left hand side, which matched the surroundings, unlike her bedroom door, and it was marked with a gorgeous, swirling pattern, etched into the material instead of on a nameplate like her bedroom. She peered around the Doctor's leather clad shoulder to look more closely at it, but she didn't get the opportunity she wanted to examine it in because the door slid open without a breath of noise, disappearing into the wall, leaving no seam behind. She pressed her finger against where the door had disappeared, expecting to feel a dip but it felt smooth and flat and perfectly solid.

She was impressed.

"This is the medical bay," the Doctor explained over his shoulder to her, and she jerked her finger back like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. "Hopefully you won't need it much – or at all, to be honest, let's try not to use this at all, hmm? – but it's fully equipped to deal with any injury you might sustain in the course of your travels."

"What sort of injuries are we talkin' here?" She asked worriedly but he ignored her.

It sounded like he had memorised his little speech. She supposed that with forty to fifty people travelling with him at one time or another, he had probably said it enough times for it to be ingrained in his memory. She forewent teasing him when he patted the bed for her to sit on, and she hopped onto it, her legs swinging off the ground, the heels of her new boots clacking together. The bed was surprisingly comfortable with a material that shaped itself perfectly to the curve of her behind; she pressed her palm flat against it and watched as the memory of her fingers slowly faded from the surface as he rifled through the drawers and cabinets. Rose settled herself on the bed next to her sister, their thighs pressed together.

"So you're actually a doctor then?" Zoe asked curiously. "Like a proper medical doctor?"

"I've had some training," he said vaguely.

"It's just, I figured your name was like a weird affectation or something," she continued, blithely unaware of how close to the mark she hit. "Or you're one of those people who has a PHD in somethin' like cheese making or whatever an' you get everyone to call you doctor so-an'-so."

The Doctor turned around, amused. "Arm."

She held out her denim covered arm and he raised his eyebrows. "Oh! Hold on." She shrugged out of her jacket, dropping it into Rose's lap; she pushed the long sleeve of her T-shirt up. "Better?"

"Something for the nausea," he said, pressing a copper coloured tube with a spray dispensing head against her skin and he depressed his thumb.

She made a small sound of strange delight when she felt the softest brush of air against her but her body's reaction was immediate. All trace of nausea faded and her stomach felt settled and strong. She gave him a lopsided grin of amazement. His own mouth twitched in return.

"The TARDIS will take care of any pathogens and diseases you might pick up when you step back in but –" he pressed another hypo spray against her skin and depressed it as well. "Contraceptive."

Her vision went blurry, and the room swayed as the colour drained from her face. Her jaw slipped open, and she gaped at him.

"What?" Panic made her voice take on a strangled quality.

"Just in case," the Doctor said, oblivious to her reaction. "You're young and human, so it's better to be on the safe side, I think."

She turned to her sister with wide, panicked eyes. Surely the Doctor didn't think she would...?

Rose covered her mouth, eyes sparkling in anticipation of the Doctor's reaction.

"Doctor," she said through her barely concealed laughter. "She thinks you're plannin' on havin' sex with her."

"What?" He yelped, matching Zoe's strangled tones from a moment ago. His ears burned furiously, a red so bright he felt the heat against the back of his neck and the top of his head. His hip knocked into a surgical lamp that wobbled but didn't fall. He looked at Zoe, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Did people really think he wanted them to...? He began stammering. "I – no – that is...well, what I mean – I mean..."

"What he means," Rose said smoothly whilst looking far too amused at the situation for either Zoe or the Doctor's liking, "is that you can meet all sorts of people travellin' through time an' space, an' things may happen that you don't expect, so it's better for you to be prepared." Zoe blinked at her, heart rate beginning to return to normal after the wild conclusion she had jumped to. "He doesn't mean to imply that you're expected to have sex with him as payment for travellin' in the TARDIS."

If the Doctor's ears turned any redder, they would fall off. He stared up at the ceiling, mortified.

"Well...good," Zoe said awkwardly, pushing her sleeve down and hurriedly pulling her jacket back on, embarrassed at the cul-de-sac she had led them down. "Not that I'm plannin' on _that_ but, y'know, thanks."

The Doctor nodded stiffly, hands buried so deeply in his pockets that his elbows had disappeared. Rose stuffed her knuckles into her mouth to stop from laughing out loud, emitting small little coughs as she tried to control herself. The embarrassed tension in the air was awkward and stiff but the Doctor, ears still red and eyes still avoiding looking anywhere near Zoe, pushed through it.

"Right!" Zoe jumped at his loud exclamation. "Enough lollygagging. Shall we get going?"

Excitement replaced awkward embarrassment, and her cheeks began to cool as her blood returned to where it was supposed to be.

"Where are we goin'?" She asked.

"Anywhere you want," The Doctor told her; she scrambled off the bed to rush after him as he had left the medical bay with long strides, leaving her and Rose in his wake, tripping over themselves to catch up to him. They followed the back of his black leather jacket. "First trip in the TARDIS, Zoe Tyler! Your choice. Anywhere in all of time and space. Where d'you want to go?"

She sank her teeth into her bottom lip as they entered the control room. The choices were literally endless. She thought of the list that she had been compiling, neatly written down in her notebook on her bedside table in her new bedroom, but she couldn't decide from one of those for her first visit. She didn't know what was out there, only what had come before, and she knew that she didn't want to go to the past for her first visit. So she looked at the Doctor and made her decision.

"I want to go somewhere amazin'," she said.

The Doctor stared at her, mulling her answer over in his mind, before he nodded, a grin stretching across his face. Excitement burned within her as he started flipping the controls on the TARDIS, turning knobs and dials and pressing buttons with practised hands.

"I know just the place," he grinned. "Hold on!"

Exhilarated, Zoe laughed as she was thrown forwards across the grated floor, catching her balance on the console as the TARDIS sped up in the Time Vortex, hurtling her into the universe.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

The TARDIS landed with a bump that nearly knocked Zoe from her feet; she caught herself on a piece of metal railing that wound around the raised dais of the console with a small _oof_ upon impact. The glowing time rotor in the middle of the console slowly settled ceased its movements. Carefully, as her knees had turned to jelly, Zoe stepped back from the railing and looked around, surprised to find that everything was still intact, and the Doctor and Rose were laughing at the look on her face. She was honestly amazed that they hadn't come apart at the seams. It had been nothing like the short hop across London, which had been rocky at best and torturous at worst. Flying in the TARDIS felt like being on a dangerous roller coaster at top speed without the benefit of a seatbelt.

On the bright side, her anti-nausea medication worked like a charm.

"Where are we?" She asked, casting her eyes around as though that would help her determine their location but everything on the TARDIS console was completely baffling to her.

Even the computer screen didn't help her with its circular ribbons of language sprawled across it. Unable to glean the information she wanted from the console, she looked towards the Doctor.

He moved around the main console towards her, brushing against Rose's shoulder as her sister straightened up and pushed her blonde hair from her face. His heavy boots thudded against the floor with a strange emptiness as noise was absorbed by the metal, leaving no trace of the sound in the air – she would like something like that back at the flat where there was constant noise from their neighbours all around them. He looked very pleased with himself, and he rested his hip against the coral strut by the door, one leg thrown casually over his ankle, arms folded across his chest.

 _Show off_ she thought to herself.

"We've travelled in time to the 31st century," he informed her, watching her reaction carefully, filing her expression away to revisit when he felt old and tired, bothered by the nightmares that kept him from restful sleep. "Outside of these doors is an alien world...just for you."

Zoe found that she couldn't breathe.

She stared at the Doctor as her blood rushed through her ears.

"You're telling me that when I step out of those doors –" she pointed at the double doors behind him " – I'm going to be walking on another planet?"

"Yep," he said, lips pressing together to pop the p with satisfaction

"Oh my god," she breathed and, in her excitement, rushed across the control room towards him and barrelled into him, wrapping her arms tightly around the Doctor's middle, pressing her face into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of leather. He was surprised by the hug, and nearly knocked off his feet by the strength of it, but he hugged her back, smiling down at her curly head. "This is amazin'. Thank you!"

She released him as abruptly as she had grabbed him and made for the door before catching herself, stumbling in her thoughts. She braced a hand against the door to stop from crashing into it and spun around to stare up at him.

"Can I – ?" She asked hesitantly, her fingers almost touching the latch.

"Be my guest," the Doctor replied, sweeping his arm out to the door, and her smile was blindingly happy.

She pulled open the door and stepped outside.

A small, warm hand tucked itself into the crook of the Doctor's elbow, drawing his attention away from Zoe Tyler's first, tentative steps out into the universe; Rose leaned against his side, her head resting against his arm. Happiness trickled through him, easing back the edge of darkness within him. He looked down at her.

"Shall we?"

Rose's tongue-touched smile was the only answer he needed, and they followed Zoe out of the TARDIS.

Zoe left the TARDIS and stepped foot on an alien world for the first time in her life. She made it three steps from the doors before she had to just stop and stare, her breath catching in her chest as she took everything in. Huge, swirling skyscrapers lifted from the ground and swept towards the crystal blue sky that shimmered with silver and gold dust particles. The light from one of the two suns that the solar system orbited around caught on the smooth, white material used to build the buildings; it made the city seem as though it was caught in the middle of a firework. Terracotta banners hung between the buildings, brushing against the top of blue-leafed trees as they trembled in the breeze, white embroidery forming a complete circle.

The TARDIS had landed in the middle of a wide and smooth pedestrian street, stretching down what appeared to be the main avenue of the city due to the thrum of people moving up and down it, oblivious to the arrival of travellers on their world. The natives of the world closely resembled humans in height and construction – two arms, two legs, and the ability to walk upright – but when the sun brushed against their skin, different hues rippled across Zoe's visual perception. People with shimmers of red and green and blue walked past, talking to each other or moving swiftly to get to their destination; their clothing was elegant in its simplicity – pastel shades clearly in fashion.

She stared at them in amazement, catching herself before she followed a woman with the most incredible shade of purple hair. She turned her aborted movement into a slow circle, face tilted upwards to stare up at her first alien sky. It was as amazing as she had hoped when she had been lying back in her bed back home, mind exhausted from studying, dreaming of the day she would finally be able to see alien skies. The wait had been worth it. She completed her circle and then turned back around to face the Doctor and Rose, who stepped out of the TARDIS, arm in arm, similar looks of amusement on their faces at her obvious happiness.

"I'm on an alien world," Zoe said, and her words sent a feeling of utter disbelief through her even as a wide smile swept across her face and stretched her cheeks, making them ache from the force of her joy.

"Technically, you're the alien here," the Doctor pointed out.

"I'm an alien!" She laughed, her eyes went wide delight. She supposed it made sense though. Everyone was an alien to each other. She pushed her fingers through her hair and held it out of her eyes as she looked around with that in mind. "Where are we?"

"We're on the planet Gaju," he said, shutting the TARDIS door behind them with a soft click as the latch caught. "It's the fourth planet in a system of nine, all of them inhabited."

"Nine inhabited planets in one system?" She asked curiously, taking care to shield her eyes from the sun when she looked at him, shifting so that the TARDIS's shadow fell into her eyes instead. "Is that normal?"

"Nope," he said, enjoying himself. Introducing people to new worlds never failed to brighten his mood and day. "Normally you get one or two inhabited planets but the Frenan Solar System is something of a scientific curiosity. Life developed naturally on all nine planets over billions of years. There were some wars a couple of millennia ago when they realised that each other existed but they've lived at peace ever since."

"Looks like there's some sort of festival goin' on," Rose said, taking note of the raised banners, pointing them out to the Doctor with a point of a finger. She looked up at him with a fond, almost shy, smile playing on her lips that Zoe, distracted as she was by Gaju, caught. She looked away, amused. "Where d'you bring us to?"

"Well, Zoe wanted something amazing," the Doctor said, dragging it out for as long as he could. Rose poked him in the ribs and he grunted, eyes sparkling. "I reckon the Frenans' Festival of Ancestors falls under that category."

Zoe bounced on the balls of her toes. "Like the Day of the Dead in Mexico?"

"Similar." He bobbed his head. "Except this is a week long celebration that starts tonight with the Medusian Shower." She drew in a breath, mouth already forming around her next question. "It happens every year at the same time. A group of comets pass overhead, and the Frenans used to believe that it was the spirits of the recent dead on their way to the next world."

"Oh, that's beautiful," she said with wide, excited eyes.

"Are we staying the whole week?" Rose asked.

"That's up to Zoe," the Doctor said, placing the decision in Zoe's eager hands. "This is her trip."

"Really?" She asked, surprised and thrilled at being given free rein. He nodded. "You're not goin' to get bored?"

"While I'm on an alien planet?" He replied, peering at her as though rethinking her level of intelligence. "Not a chance."

Zoe scoffed at him, dropping her hands into her pockets. "Earth is an alien planet to you, an' you're climbin' the walls when you're there for longer than a few hours with nothin' to do."

"Okay, right," he said falteringly, taken aback that she had called him out on his bullshit so abruptly. Rose pressed her forehead into his shoulder and her shoulders shook with silent laughter. He pointed a finger at her. "First of all, shut up."

She tipped her head back and laughed, completely unaffected by his words. She met his gaze with a cheeky grin that he liked.

"An' second of all?"

The Doctor scowled. "Assume all of them are shut up."

"Come on then, Shakespeare," she laughed, dancing back a few steps, unwilling to stay still for any longer. "I want to see absolutely everythin'."

And with that, she set off down the street with the Doctor and Rose following behind her.

* * *

In the end, they stayed for the entire festival.

The Festival was well-equipped for tourists. Information stands were accessible on every corner and after a few minutes of trial and error with the computer system, Zoe had figured out how it worked. She could have got the Doctor to do it but there was no fun in waiting around for him to do everything for her. She was able to download the week's events onto her phone, a gift from the Doctor after hers was destroyed in Downing Street, and she declared that she wanted to do everything on the list, which pleased the Doctor as sitting still was not something he was particularly good at.

It was a week-long festival of dancing, singing, food, and a joyous celebration of life that came together to form something incredibly beautiful. The Frenans, the name of all the people who lived in the solar system as decided by popular vote three thousand years earlier, gathered together on Gaju, which was the largest of the nine planets, and simply celebrated life in all of it forms. Life, she was told, is beautiful because it ends. Things that last forever lose their beauty through their permanence. Zoe wasn't sure she agreed with that but she liked the sentiment nonetheless.

When the first night came to an end, after they had watched the comets pass overhead in a glorious display of celestial beauty that made her dizzy with delight, they made their way to a hotel that the Doctor had booked. He spent the walk there telling her how it was possible for the phones that he supercharged to call various points in time as long as one had the correct temporal co-ordinates. He had to pry her phone from her hands to stop her from attempting that, telling her she needed at least some understanding of quantum mechanics before she could do so, which she half-suspected was a lie.

The hotel was nice if simple, located just off the beaten track so they were out of the way of the general hubbub of noise. There was a large double bed for Zoe and Rose to share and a sofa for the Doctor to stretch out on if he chose to sleep with a bathroom set off to one side. Caught up by the excitement of the day, Zoe fell asleep before her head touched the pillow, not paying attention to the fact it was her first night's sleep on another planet.

They spent the week dancing, laughing, and drinking beneath foreign stars, and exploring the entire planet, not just city they had landed in. On one occasion, they took a boat out into the middle of the ocean and joined in the rebirth tradition, which had similar properties to a born-again baptism but Zoe jumped off the side of the boat and immersed herself in the crystalline water without regard for the religious connotations. She resurfaced in time to see the Doctor's blindingly white body dive smoothly off the side of the boat, disappearing under the surface like a fish. On another occasion, Zoe and Rose donned the traditional dress of daughters who mourned the loss of a parent so they could bury a tree for Pete Tyler in the Forest of Our Ancestors.

By far though, her favourite memory of the week spent on Gaju was when they decided to ascend to the top of the tallest mountain on the Eastern continent, named Universe's Door due to how tall it was. It wasn't at all how she imagined climbing a mountain would be. They sat in a hover car and waited as it climbed the side of the mountain behind others in the network, watching the planet spread out under them. From above, the city on Gaju looked like a glittering spider that was stretching its legs out. They took a picnic with them for the air pressure remained the same no matter how how they reached – unlike on Earth – and when they reached the very top, they spread out a blanket the Doctor had fetched from the TARDIS.

The three of them laid down on their backs, bodies touching each other, and they watched the suns set in a gorgeous cascade of colours that left Zoe prone in amazement, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths, the sight lulling her into stunned appreciation. Slowly, as the colours faded from the sky, the stars started to blink into existence, twinkling above them. The Doctor wove stories about each individual star, his words gently pushing her into a state of peaceful relaxation, and she fell asleep with her forehead resting against his upper arm, hand linked across his stomach with Rose's.

On their last morning on the planet, as the Festival came to its pre-planned end, they arose early and made their way through the lamp-lit streets to the edge of the city. It was a shore in the fact that it bordered the ocean but there was no beach they could walk onto. The city simply ended and, ten feet below, there was the clear blue water of the ocean pushing up against the side, occasional schools of fish visible beneath the surface. They joined the rest of the city to greet the suns rise, turning their faces up towards the sky to feel the warmth of them as they broke over the horizon.

There was no clear end to the morning's experience. People left when they were ready, and it was only when Zoe's shoulders drooped minutely that the Doctor suggested they make their way back to the TARDIS. She was sad that their time on Gaju was over. For a first trip, it had been everything she could have hoped for and more: culture, and aliens with new skies over her head and new ground beneath her feet. She felt mournful on the way back to the TARDIS, and she lagged behind the Doctor and Rose, picking apart the flaky pastry she had come to enjoy.

Noticing her sister's melancholy, Rose murmured a few words to the Doctor and fell back from him, dropping his arm so that she could wait for Zoe.

"You're quiet," she said. "Are you feelin' okay?"

"Yeah, of course," Zoe replied, trying to appear cheerful but failing horribly. She stuffed the rest of her pastry in her mouth and chewed. She brushed her fingers off and wiped at her mouth, swallowing whilst her sister waited patiently for her to speak. "I just – I s'pose I don't want to leave, that's all. I've really enjoyed it here."

Rose looked at her with an air of understanding and a soft smile, linking arms with her, and giving her a little squeeze.

"S not travellin' if we only stay in one place," she said.

Zoe bumped their shoulders together with a small grin. "I know, an' I want to see everythin' else out there, but..."

"This is your first plane," Rose said. "I get it. When the Doctor took me to Arcadia, I didn't want to leave because how could anythin' measure up?"

At least Rose understood. She felt lighter in the face of that understanding, light enough to allow a small, teasing smile to play across her face.

"I suppose it beat your first date," Zoe joked.

Her sister grinned, her free hand slapping over her mouth so that her laugh couldn't be heard by the Doctor, who was letting himself into the TARDIS, his back to them.

"Yeah. Honestly," Rose grinned. "Only he would think watchin' the Earth die would be romantic."

Zoe ducked her head, trying to get rid of the smile on her face before they reached the Doctor, who had turned and was waiting for them in the open doorway, leaning against the side, arms folded across his chest. He watched them approach, almost suspicious of their good humour and attempts at hiding their smiles.

"You two finished gossiping?" He asked them.

"We're sisters, Doctor." Rose said archly. "We're never finished."

He scoffed at that but looked amused nonetheless.

Over the last week, Zoe felt that she had got to know the Doctor better. Before July 1st, she had only thought of him as an alien who happened to look human. She had seen him in the middle of a crisis and admired him then; admired the way he remained calm and stoic under pressure; admired the way he was able to calm her down and get to know Harriet, all whilst putting them both at ease but never losing sight of the main goal. However, seeing him as he normally was – in his natural habitat some might say – travelling and showing off the universe to humans, was revealing.

He was more human than she felt he would like to admit.

There was a deep, genuine warmth to him that attracted people of all sorts into his orbit, making friends in everything they did. He was funny and incredibly generous. Zoe had been reluctant to take the credit stick he held out to her, and his confusion over why she wouldn't take it was sincere. Yet again, Rose had stepped in to smooth out the awkwardness of their small culture clash.

Zoe had only taken the credit stick after learning that one – the money was real but fake, and she had to cut off his long explanation because she didn't understand economics, and two – no matter how much money she spent, she wasn't able to do damage to his wallet or the planet's economy. She planned to revisit the conversation at a more appropriate time because she was almost certain he didn't have a job but also knew nothing of his planet and his people and maybe they considered travelling a job.

By the end of her first week travelling with him, the main impression that she had of him was that he was just an incredibly lonely man who enjoyed the company of other people, both as a way to stave off the loneliness and because the people he chose to travel with were people he considered interesting.

"Only child, Doctor?" She asked, leaning against Rose.

"I had a brother," he replied, and she realised that she might have inadvertently blundered onto a sensitive topic when she noted his use of the past tense. "We never really gossiped. He did lock me in a barn once, though."

"Rose used to lock me in the wardrobe," she said, attempting to change the topic subtly. "Told me I'd eventually find Narnia."

Rose went red under the Doctor's amused look.

"Is it my fault she kept gettin' into the wardrobe?" She asked defensively. "You'd think she'd realise Narnia wasn't there after the first three times."

"I _trusted_ you, dear sister," Zoe said with a heavy, dramatic sigh, and Rose gave her a fond shove. "Speakin' of Narnia –"

She nodded at the TARDIS and the Doctor opened the door wider, letting them in.

"The TARDIS is better than Narnia," he told her.

"You'll get no arguments from me; although, there is a troublin' lack of Turkish Delight." She said, entering the magical box but taking a moment to pause and look back out at Gaju, smiling softly to herself before she shut the door, hoping that one day she would come back.

"So?" The Doctor asked, turning neatly on his heel as he set the controls on the TARDIS and Zoe quickly gripped the nearest coral strut as they took off from Gaju, the angry shaking giving way to the smooth travel of the Vortex. Her anti-nausea treatment appeared to still be working. "Enjoy yourself?"

"You know I did," she said through a smile, releasing the coral strut and moving towards the console, her features softening into honesty. "It was amazin', just like you promised. Thank you, Doctor."

Her happiness was an infectious thing, and he resisted the urge to bounce where he stood, pleased that she was pleased.

"Where to next?" He asked her.

"Straight away?" She asked, looking between the Doctor and Rose in surprise. "You don't take a break in between?"

"Nah, why would I?" He said. "There's a whole universe to see. Can't be wasting it away in here." He peered at her, attempting to see if she was tired and he had missed the signs. "Why? Do you need a break?"

She shook her head, _no_.

"Just learnin' how things are done."

"Then where to next?" He asked her again and she thought about it, mind slipping from the wonders of Gaju to the blue notebook that she owned. She held up one finger and started to walk out of the control room.

"Wait here," She told him, dashing past a surprised Rose. "I need somethin'!"

Her booted feet slapped against the grey floor of the corridor as she ran through the still unfamiliar network of twists and turns towards her bedroom, the TARDIS helping her by bringing the recognisable wood door closer to her. She skidded to a stop and pushed open the door, striding into the room that she had yet to spend a night in. She dropped down onto the side of her bed, bouncing a little as she did so, and she opened her bedside cabinet. Sitting on the top of a pile of notebooks she had bought with her – some of them were for keeping a journal because she didn't want to forget one day of it; others were her French notebooks because she didn't plan on losing her French after all the hard work she had put in over the years – was her Doctor notebook.

She plucked it from the pile, nudged the cabinet shut with her toes, and she was off again. Instead of running, she moved at a fast trot. When she arrived back in the control room, Rose tried to peer over her shoulder.

"What's this?"

Zoe snapped it to her chest so her sister could see it and mock her.

"Unlike you," she said haughtily, "I've actually had time to think about things I wanted to do an' see."

The Doctor rubbed a hand over his face, looking amused. "You made a list?"

"Course I made a list," she said, deciding not to be embarrassed by her actions. "You offer me all of time an' space? I make a list." She hopped up on the jump seat, her feet dangling above the floor and she riffled through the pages. "I'm all up for random destinations – love 'em in fact – but there are some places I really want to go."

"What's in there then?" The Doctor asked, and Zoe found herself squished between the alien and Rose, both of them peering over her shoulder.

She gave up trying to conceal it and held it open on her lap. "Places in history I'd like to visit. Certain criteria for alien planets because, y'know, I don't actually know if they exist."

"That does," he said said, pointing at _purple oceans_. "Drana's like Earth except it has purple oceans due to certain minerals that are present in the planet's crust."

"Brilliant." Delight licked at the inside of her chest, and she removed the Biro from the spiral binder and wrote _**Drana**_ next to purple oceans after getting him to spell it out for her. She then stuck the pen behind her ear. "I've also got a list of questions for you."

He looked pleasantly surprised, pulling back to look at her. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded, gesturing around the inside of the TARDIS with her hand. "Like how do you get the outside around the inside? Because I've been thinkin' about it an' reading up on the latest scientific theories, an' I'm thinkin' it's another dimension."

Rose looked over at the Doctor with eyebrows raised. He scratched behind his ear.

"Has anyone ever told you you're very clever?"

"Yes. You."

"Ah, good then," the Doctor said, bobbing his head in agreement with his past self. "It is another dimension, more or less."

"Awesome," she grinned, plucking her pen from behind her ear and wrote _**another dimension**_ next to the question, ticking it off with satisfaction. As she got the answer right, she also gave herself a little smiley face that made the Doctor's mouth twitch. "Also, how does the Time Vortex work? An' why is the TARDIS a police public telephone box? How far does the interior go back? Is there a limit? What –?"

"Oh, God, please stop!" Rose cried, unable to take it any more. She clamped her hand over Zoe's mouth, who immediately pressed her tongue against her sister's palm. "Doctor, please, you don't know what can of worms you've opened. She won't shut up unless you make her shut up."

"I don't mind the questions," he said with an indulgent smile; Rose groaned, dropping her head back and reclaiming her hand, wiping it on her knee.

"I'm going to go put the kettle on," she said, sliding off the jump seat with a long-suffering expression, knowing defeat when it was right in front of her. "When you two science geeks are done, let me know."

"Oi!" The Doctor replied to her words, perceiving them to be an insult, even as he looked to Zoe for clarification. "Science geeks? What's that?"

"It means we like science a lot," she explained in a roundabout honest way.

Rose's laughter stayed even as she left the control room.

"Oh, that's nice," he said before refocusing. "And in answer to your questions. One, you'd need to understand advanced quantum mechanics to get how the Vortex works but think of it like a water slide but with more control." She opened her mouth but he cut her off before she could ask her question. "Yes, I can teach you some quantum mechanics."

She pumped her fist in victory.

"Two, she's a police public call box because it's a disguise."

"It's not a very good one."

"Well, yeah." He coughed. "Thing is, you see, I got stuck in the 1960s once, and the chameleon circuit broke while I was there so she got stuck as a police box. I keep meaning to fix the circuit but – you know what it's like – put something off for a day and then a hundred years later you've still not done it."

"You're right," Zoe said dryly, "I know exactly what that's like."

"Three," he ignored her, "I don't actually know how far she goes back. She's constantly growing and changing over the years. When I first got her, she was barely an eighth of the size she is now. I keep finding new rooms. And four, there's no limit. Theoretically, anyway. Time Lords didn't really keep their TARDISes as long as I have so there's no telling really."

She scribbled quick answers to her questions down, nodding her head as she did so. There was so much to think about and she loved it. However, despite having more questions, she flipped back to the front of her book where her historical wish list was located. She thrust it under his nose. "Are these possible?"

He cast his eye over them.

 _Be in the crowd for Martin Luther King's_ I Have a Dream _speech._

 _Moon landing!_

 _Frank Sinatra live?_

 _Shakespeare live?_

 _Ancient Rome – Pax Romana._

 _Library of Alexandria!_

 _Ancient China._

The list went on and on, and he had to admire her imagination for thinking of all them, and her practicality for coming prepared. He nodded as he read over them all. "They're all possible. Except, perhaps, Marco Polo."

"Oh, no," she said sadly, eyes wide and disappointed. "Why?"

"I had a bit of an altercation with him when I was much, much younger," the Doctor explained. "He took a fancy to the TARDIS and stole her as a gift for Kublai Khan. Me and my granddaughter had to ride in his party for weeks before we could get her back."

"So crossing personal timelines is a no-no then," Zoe deduced, and he nodded. He watched, deeply amused, as she flipped right to the back again and ticked off another question. This tiny human with her space hair and her enthusiasm entertained him. She finished writing her answer when the rest of his words caught up to her. "Wait. What? You have a granddaughter?"

Pain lanced through him. He hadn't meant to mention Susan but it had slipped off his tongue without thinking about it. It was one thing to mention Brax in passing but Susan was a deeper, more painful wound than his brother. He slapped on a cheerful expression, jumping to his feet even as he thrust the book back into her hands.

"I'm 900 years old, more or less, don't really keep track any more," he said in something of a babble in the hope of distracting her from his pain. "Course I have a granddaughter."

He silently pleaded that Zoe wouldn't pursue the subject and, although it was obvious that she was dying to ask more questions – he suspected the day she didn't have any questions would be the day the universe froze – she let it go.

"So no Marco Polo."

Relief and gratitude shuttered through him. "No Marco Polo. Unless you can find someone else with a time machine."

"No, thanks," she said with a sweet smile. "I'm happy with you."

Her words shouldn't have pleased him as much as they did.

"So, come on then," he said, nodding at her book. "Choose one and we'll go."

She struggled to fight back a smile, and he was pleased he could make her happy with such a simple thing. He watched as her dark eyes closed, and she waved her finger over the top of the lined page before dropping it down. With her finger on their destination, she opened her eyes and her entire face lit up with pure joy. The Doctor waited patiently, his hearts returning to normal after the panic he had subjected himself to moments before.

"Queen in concert," Zoe told him. "I want to see Freddie Mercury live."

"Oh, excellent choice.," he said enthusiastically. "I love a bit of Queen, me."

"Really?" She asked with a laugh. " _You_ like Queen?"

"What's not to like?" He replied, jumping around the console as he set the co-ordinates and she watched him in bemusement. _She was travelling with an alien_. "I don't care what anyone else says, Freddie Mercury is the best singer of all time."

"All time?" She teased, crossing her ankles and closing her notebook. "That's quite somethin' from a Time Lord."

He replied with a laugh and pulled on a lever. They both looked at each other and started laughing when they heard Rose cry out in surprise from the kitchen as she was thrown off her feet.

* * *

 _Montreal, Canada, 1981_

The Montreal Forum was packed to the brim with people straining to see every movement of Freddie Mercury on stage as he hit note after note, making the room vibrate with life and power. Roger Taylor twirled the drumsticks in his hand, expertly raising the cacophony of brilliant noise, adding his vocals to compliment Freddie's. Through the press of bodies, Brian May's thick, curly hair could be seen as he danced his fingers across his keyboard, his guitar strapped to his back for the current song; and John Deacon played the guitar with a breathless dedication that had the crowd going wild.

The Doctor had brought them to Quebec in 1981 to watch Queen perform live on stage at one of their best live shows. Eager to fit in with the crowd, Zoe had dressed appropriately thanks to the extensive and incredibly impressive wardrobe that the TARDIS hosted. Rose had led her there and whilst the rock-style clothing had been moved closer to the door, Zoe nearly got lost as she explored through the first level, peering up the winding staircase, counting five floors before her sister drew her attention back to the outfits.

They had had fun trying to decide what to wear and then applying each others make-up. It felt as though they were on Earth, getting ready for one of the rare nights out that Rose had been able to pull her younger sister on. Rose's practised hands teased Zoe's hair, rubbing a moisturising serum through her curls to protect them, making it more voluminous as she rolled a pair of opaque tights up her legs and shimmied into a tight leather skirt. She threw a simple white T-shirt on with it and shrugged back into her charity shop denim jacket and was ready.

"What do you think?" Zoe asked, laughing as she tripped into the control room to show her outfit to the Doctor. "Will I fit in?"

The Doctor looked her over. His eyes snagged on Rose's and remembered his blunder with her in the 19th century. He smiled. "You look lovely."

It didn't take long for the enclosed room to become hot and humid. Zoe shrugged off her jacket and tied it around her wast, scalp feeling damp with sweat, but she didn't care. She had a plastic cup of lukewarm beer in her hand, and she and her sister were leaning into each other as Freddie crooned Love of My Life, his white vest tucked into his back pocket, bare chest on display. The crowd joined in, and the two sisters swayed together as their voices added to the noise of the song.

" _Bring it back. Bring it back. Don't take it away from me, because you don't know what it means to me._ "

Behind them, like a sentinel, the Doctor stood, forming a barrier between them and the people at their backs who pushed and pressed forwards in their desire to get closer to the illuminated stage. He glanced down at the tops of their heads, so different from the others – Rose's honey blonde and Zoe's chocolate brown curls –and he smiled at their happiness, which only multiplied when the iconic _dun-dun-dun-dundundundun_ of the keyboard filled the air at the end of Love of My Life. Zoe called out happily, a cheerful whoop pulling from her throat, raising her beer in a salute when Freddie began singing the opening salvo of Under Pressure.

It had been a long time since he had enjoyed himself, and since he had felt free to enjoy himself without being tormented by guilt over what he had done, what he had yet do to do, and things he hadn't done.

Meeting Rose that cold night in London, in the basement of the type of department store that could be found on any planet with a moderately advance intelligent species, had brought some light back into his life. Before her, he had simply been drifting from one disaster to the next, surrounding himself with fixed points in time so as not to feel responsible when he ultimately failed to save people. He was alive before her but he hadn't been living. The darkness of everything that had happened, everything that he had done, had turned on his autopilot. He hadn't seen the planets he visited and saved; he couldn't remember the people he had met for they were as ephemeral as breath on a window.

Her natural happiness and ingrained kindness had helped him to take his first step out of the dark memories of the Time War that lingered in every moment of his waking hours and tormented him when he was unable to fall asleep. Rose, by simple virtue of being Rose, had helped him begin to heal, shaking him awake and reminding him that he could learn to be the Doctor again. He cringed when he thought of where he had taken her for her first trip in the TARDIS. To take her to watch her planet die had been cruel. He had wanted someone else to feel the pain he felt, although he knew it wasn't possible. Her quiet sadness at no one watching the Earth die had shamed him, and he had taken her home to reassure her that all was well, promising himself that he wouldn't be so cruel again.

He had to live.

That was his punishment for what he had done, as decided by the Moment in the barn, surrounded by relics of his childhood. His hand had pressed the button that annihilated billions and destroyed two mighty races in one fell swoop, wiping them from existence and ending the Time War once and for all. He saved the universe but at an unimaginable cost. He had to live with what he had done for the rest of his day.

Meeting Rose had reminded him that maybe, just maybe, he could find his way back to the man he once was hundreds of years ago: a mad man with the blue box who travelling through the stars.

Then he met Zoe.

Her quick wit and bright intelligence reminded him of Romana after she had regenerated the first time, but her sense of humour and sensitivity was all her own. He had been reluctantly impressed with her. Reluctant because he tended not to like people who threatened to push him off of buildings and run him over with stolen vehicles, but he had been unable to not like her. Her compassion for the spacepig, and her bravery in facing down the Slitheen were all very attractive to him; everything he looked for in a friend.

And though he would never tell her, her ability to say no to travelling him, even when she clearly wanted to, was very impressive.

As though sensing that his thoughts were on her, Zoe turned her head to look over her shoulder at him, white teeth flashing in delight. Her voice rose to be heard above the roar of the crowd.

"This is fantastic!" She yelled.

The Doctor grinned back at her.

It really, really was.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The Doctor flung open the TARDIS doors and stepped out, arms open wide onto a vista of rolling green hills and abundant forests that stretched for miles in every direction the eye could see. The faint sound of water rushing through the countryside reached their ears and the distant cries of birds echoed down to them; the air was so pure and fresh that it momentarily made their heads spin as their bodies got used to a planet with little to no air pollution.

"Thanatos!" He exclaimed like a magician performing one of his best tricks. "One of the most beautiful planets in this part of the galaxy. At least before the industrial revolution kicks it but that's not for – oh, another few centuries."

"It's so pretty," Zoe said happily, stepping out of the TARDIS with Rose, who tugged her scarf tighter around her neck because, for once, the Doctor had warned them to put on warmer clothing. She breathed in deeply and her eyes watered at the purity. "An' it smells nice too."

"Mmm," Rose agreed, linking her arm with her sister and burrowing close into her side, still sleepy; the Doctor had woken them up by pounding on their bedroom doors and singing an off-key aria that had left them begging him to stop as they peeled themselves out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. "'S like somethin' out of a fairytale."

Around them, the colours of autumn swept across the land. The leaves in the trees were a mixture of reds and oranges as they died in the approach to winter, and the air held a slightly bitter chill that made Zoe nostalgic for London in the autumn – although, London was never as beautiful as where they had landed. The TARDIS had materialised on the top of a hill that looked down over everything, including a thick, long river that wound its way lazily through the forest and the base of the hill, disappearing in the rugged stone mountain range that rose up high over the yellowing tree tops. It was the closest thing to paradise that Zoe had ever seen for, having been born and raised in one of the biggest cities on Earth, she never really had the opportunity to visit the countryside; the nearest she had come to it was the green parks of London and Essex. She dropped her hands into her pockets and strolled along, side by side with Rose and the Doctor – her older sister had abandoned her arm in favour of the Doctor's hand, their fingers twining together and swinging by their sides.

They made their way down the steep hill. By the time they reached the bottom, Rose's cheeks were rosy and pink, which made her look beautiful, a fact that didn't seem to escape the Doctor's notice as he kept glancing at her with a small smile on his lips. With her hands deep in her pockets to keep them warm, having forgotten her gloves despite the Doctor's warning and not wanting to give him an opportunity to complain about humans and their tiny minds, she turned to him.

"Go on then," she said, kicking a loose rock away from her into the long grass that towered over even the Doctor. "I know you're dyin' to dazzle us with the history of this place."

Rose smothered a giggle against his arm.

His expression bordered on almost-offended. "Zoe Tyler, what are you saying?"

"I'm sayin' that you like to tell us the history of the places we visit," she said with an air of teasing politeness, ignoring his mock offence with practised ease. "An' you're bein' suspiciously quiet right now. D'you not know? Have we come to the one place that your superior Time Lord brain doesn't know about?"

He gasped in indignation, and Rose tipped her head back and laughed, hazel eyes sparkling with laughter and happiness.

"Is she right, Doctor?" Rose asked, tongue pressed between her teeth as she grinned up at him.

"She most definitely isn't," he replied, sniffing in an attempt to reclaim some dignity. "Well then, since you asked."

He shot her a look, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

Thanatos, at this point in its history, was a galactically isolated planet. It hadn't yet split the atom and was a thousand years away from its first contact with extra-terrestrials – the Venusians who would be passing through the system on a pleasure cruise would accidentally encounter the sixth ship to leave the orbit to land on one of their moons. The Doctor likened their current phase of development to the early medieval ages on Earth, specifically Eastern European medieval ages. The countries and cities and towns on Thanatos were still more-or-less isolated from each other at this stage in their development. News took months, sometimes even years, to travel between regions, leaving the planet feeling very peaceful and relaxed.

"It'll all change, of course," the Doctor told them as they walked along a forest path – not a normal path with gravel or concrete but simply a path where the grass had been tramped down beneath the weight of traders passing back and forth. Trees soared high above them; the faint chattering of birds filling the air. "It always does. There are going to be horrible, violent wars as they all scrabble for the diminishing resources before an atomic war will shock them out of their selfishness and start them on a path of peaceful co-existence. By the time they're space worthy, there'll have been a complete peace on this planet for over two hundred years."

His _unlike Earth_ went unspoken.

Despite the teasing she occasionally unleashed on him, Zoe actually enjoyed his tour guide rambles. They were always interesting and almost always contained something of the future, which amazed her even after travelling with him for month, and she couldn't quite believe that it had been that long. The time had just disappeared so when the Doctor had mentioned it the night before, suggesting they do something to celebrate, Zoe was taken aback. It felt like both a lifetime, and no time at all, since she had joined the TARDIS.

The last four weeks had been full of the most wonderful experiences and adventures as they worked their way through her list; Rose was as eager to explore the destinations as much as Zoe. They had joined in the Civil Rights march on Washington and listened to Martin Luther King Jr. make his speech in 1963 before travelling down Route 66 in a hired, open top mustang that had left both Zoe and Rose certain the Doctor shouldn't drive any Earth based vehicle at all for their own safety.

They had prime seats on the moon to watch as Neil Armstrong took humanity's first steps on another celestial body. They spent two days exploring the Library of Alexandria and Zoe had to be physically peeled away from the scrolls and books of knowledge long since lost in her time, as she babbled on about saving something, _just one thing, Doctor_ , thereby earning herself a lecture on the dangers of time travel and _don't think I won't take you home, Zoe Tyler_ , even though no one, least of all the Doctor, believed he would do that. They spent an incredible night dressed up in the finest clothing Zoe had ever seen to watch Frank Sinatra live in Las Vegas where he performed all of his greatest hits, leaving her in a state of blissful wonder. Afterwards, they tried their hands at gambling in the casino and, to no one's surprise, the Doctor walked away flush from the table.

In between their adventures in the past, they had visited alien worlds and distant restaurants and exploding stars. She fell into bed every night, her body and mind thoroughly exhausted and so completely happy that she couldn't quite believe it. However, despite her exhaustion and her happiness, she made sure to call her mother once a week, carefully keeping track of the days on a calendar the TARDIS helpfully provided her.

"So you're enjoyin' yourself then?" Jackie asked the first week she called home, lying supine on her bed, dressed in her pyjamas, still buzzing from watching Freddie Mercury perform live and the promise of visiting the Globe Theatre the next morning to watch one of Shakespeare's plays on opening night.

"I really am," she said, even though she knew it wasn't the answer her mother wanted to hear but unable to lie. "There's so much to see, Mum. I get why the Doctor's always travellin', never stayin' in one place too long. How can he?"

The walk through the forest was pleasant, and they emerged from the woods to find a small town built next to the winding river, which rushed and burbled between deep riverbanks. The town itself was, as Rose had said, like something out of a fairytale. The streets were narrow and packed close together: fallen straw littered the cobbed streets and buildings made out of wood rose above them with elegant but functional facades. A stone bridge crossed the river connecting the two sections of the town together, and animals that closely resembled horses pulled carts along through the wider sections of the town. People moved through the streets in colourful clothes of reds and blues and, yet again, the three TARDIS travellers stood out in their Earth-based clothing.

"It's like England," Zoe decided. "Elizabethan England that is. The architecture is similar."

"I suppose it is," the Doctor said as though noticing it for the first time.

Rose breathed deeply. "Smells better though."

"Here's hopin' they have indoor plumbing," Zoe grinned, raising her crossed fingers.

Neither of them cared to repeat their stay in the 16th century, which they had enjoyed for the most part until they realised there was no indoor plumbing and the fun had disappeared fairly swiftly.

"Ooo, a market!" The Doctor's face lit up.

The man was incapable of walking past any type of market, and Zoe supposed it was a good thing that the TARDIS was – theoretically – infinite because he always filled his pockets at such things.

As was normal for them, they attracted some attention by virtue of the Doctor's enthusiasm and their unusual dress. It was still disconcerting to be stared at but she was slowly getting used to it and slipped away from her sister and alien friend to explore the market on her own, examining the stalls, absently thinking of finding a gift for Jackie. She still had yet to raise the issue of going home to visit their mother with the Doctor. She knew that she was procrastinating, putting off the inevitable temper tantrum that would put the Doctor into a sulk before he ultimately caved with a lot of grumbling, simply because she didn't want to deal with his behaviour. For a man coming up to 1000 years old, he was remarkably like a spoilt child at times.

There were some nice soaps that she thought Jackie might like but as soon as she brought one to her nose to have a sniff she started sneezing, her allergies set off. She quickly dropped it and stumbled away from the stall, shoulder knocking into a stone wall where she leaned as she sneezed and sneezed, eyes watering. It took ten minutes for her sinuses to clear and her eyes and nose to stop running. The Doctor found her mopping her face with her scarf not long after, pulling Rose along behind him.

"Fancy getting lunch?" He asked her. "Or I suppose it's breakfast for you."

"Are you okay?" Rose asked, brow dropping to a worried frown.

"Allergies," Zoe said thickly. "I'm fine." She rubbed her face again. "An' I always fancy lunch."

"Great!" The Doctor said. "We found a tavern."

"Oh, an actual tavern!" She exclaimed, enthused, her eyes itchy. "Do you reckon they'll have mead? I've always wanted to try mead."

The tavern was located on the river bank, and they took a stone-crafted table outside while Rose showed Zoe the material she had bought, figuring that Bev back home could make a dress out of it for her. The material was incredibly fine and delicately soft; it felt like the softest cotton between her fingers and was a deep, gorgeous pink that would look amazing against Rose's soft-white skin.

"Good catch," she complimented.

"The Doctor actually saw it," Rose said, pleased, carefully folding it away back into the package it came in before slipping it into the Doctor's deep pockets. "He thought it'd look nice."

His ears turned red, and Zoe grinned openly at him but he avoided her eyes, refusing to take part in her mockery. Fortunately, he was saved by a server who emerged in a stained apron, corpulent stomach straining against the ties. To her delight, the tavern did have mead and so she ordered a mug of that and whatever was hot and ready to be served. As much as she enjoyed the adventurous aspects of their travels, the bits that she always looked forward to were the meals that they shared at each destination. They were always fun and relaxing and she got to try all sorts of food that she wouldn't be able to get in London, even with its vast multiculturalism.

Lunch turned out to be a hearty stew with fresh bread, and it was delicious. Her hungry stomach soaked it up, listening to Rose and the Doctor go back and forth with gentle flirtation that was quite sweet to witness. It was painfully obvious that they fancied each other – or at least that Rose fancied him, it was harder to tell with the Doctor as he was open and affectionate with most people they met – but Zoe doubted anything would truly come of it. The Doctor's life was so long that he was going to outlive both Zoe and Rose by hundreds, if not thousands, of years. She couldn't imagine such a life, and it was saddening to realise that while he was such a large part of their lives, they could only be such a small part of his.

She scooped up a piece of tender meat and spooned it into her mouth, wondering whether he would remember them in another thousand years. She felt a foot knock against her ankle and she looked up. The Doctor was looking at her, his blue eyes focused on her as Rose ate her lunch.

"You look sad," he said, unusually observant. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, no," she shook her head with a smile, chastising herself for being so silly and sentimental. "I'm not sad. How can I be sad when I'm here?"

He looked closely at her as though he didn't believe her, but he smiled.

"Good," he said, "because I thought you'd might like to go for a hike in the mountains."

"Just me?" She asked innocently. "If you an' Rose want to be alone, you just have to tell me. No need to send me to the mountains."

Rose turned pink whilst his ears turned red, and the lingering sadness disappeared from her.

"All three of us, you irritating ape," the Doctor grumbled.

A fat, heavy droplet of rain fell onto her cheek.

"Love the idea," she said, "but it might have to wait though."

They had just enough time to leap from their seats and gather their belongings before the skies opened and a heavy downpour dropped from the heavens. The tavern owner looked surprised at their entrance – stumbling and laughing as water dripped from them – before he peered out of the doorway they had burst through. His tongue clucked against the roof of his mouth, the world darkened by the unexpected arrival of torrential rain.

"Well, now," he said, "wasn't expecting that."

* * *

The rain continued unabated for three days and three nights.

There was a discussion about trying to make it back to the TARDIS but the Doctor spent fifteen minutes outside to help secure the banks against the rising water and came back in soaked through to the bone and shivering. He knocked the idea off the table saying that if he was affected after fifteen minutes, he didn't want to risk them in it as they would be sick for days afterwards and he didn't plan on playing nursemaid to two humans. Fortunately, the tavern had a room available upstairs that they could stay in. It wasn't much – a rickety bed that the two sisters shared, and a chair that the Doctor sat in, fiddling with his sonic screwdriver, bored out of his mind at being trapped inside with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

The tavern owner, Thadeus, had taken to joining them at mealtimes since business had slowed right down. Only the very brave, and very foolish, ventured out from their homes to reach the tavern and as the roads got slicker and thicker with mud as each day passed without any let up, no one left their homes. He was a cheerful, jolly man with a young son, Okana, who had taken to Rose as quickly as the Doctor had. Thadeus's wife had died in childbirth but instead of letting her death send him into a deep, spiralling sadness, he had let him turn him into happy, kind, and devoted father whose son clearly adored him.

"It'll pass," Thadeus said, repeating his optimistic words when they had gone downstairs for breakfast on the first morning to find the weather still howling and pounding at the single paned windows that began to leak around the edges. "Can't rain forever now, can it?"

In an effort to stave off his ever-increasing boredom, the Doctor decided that it was the perfect time to begin the lessons he had promised Zoe after Downing Street. Zoe had very little say in the matter and whilst she wanted to know about temporal and quantum mechanics, because she held the not-so-secret desire to one day fly the TARDIS, she was not prepared for it. Whilst Rose played games with Okana and helped Thadeus around the tavern, Zoe was made to sit still and listen as the Doctor explained basic mathematics, or at least what he called basic mathematics; she would have argued the point had she been given the opportunity to speak but her job was just to sit there and listened.

He was a fairly enigmatic teacher, something that didn't particularly surprise her, but he had the annoying tendency to look at her like she had dribbled on her shirt when she told him she didn't understand something. It was disheartening, and incredibly infuriating, and it made her want to clobber him over the back of the head with the iron-wrought candle lamp that was their only source of light, if only to get a few minutes of peace and quiet. However, she did eventually find the lessons interesting because once he figured out her level of mathematics, he was able to explain the complicated concepts in terms that she understood.

It was after lunch on the third day, in the middle of the Doctor explaining the extreme basics of quantum mechanics to her – and more fool her for asking if she could learn to fly the TARDIS because _you're not touching my ship until you understand quantum mechanics and the fourth dimension_ –, when the rain stopped. It stopped so abruptly that the volume change took a moment to register. She dug a finger into her ear, thinking that she had just gone deaf, before she realised what had happened.

Rose appeared from the kitchen, flour dusting one cheek as Thadeus had offered to teach her to make bread from scratch, and looked around.

"It's stopped," she said with a hint of amazement in her voice.

"Gods be good!" Thadeus exclaimed as he appeared behind her. "What did I tell you? It'd pass, my friends, and it has!"

Zoe turned in her chair, stretching as she did so; if they were going to continue their lessons, then she hoped they would do it in the library with the comfy chairs. "Just like that?"

"You complain'?" Rose asked, hurrying towards the door and opening it, bursting out into the fresh air. She spread her arms wide and cheered. "Freedom!"

Thadeus laughed and let his son run out to join Rose. They all followed her, and the rest of the town slowly emerged from their homes, looking around curiously with relief etched on their faces. It seemed that the Doctor wasn't the only one who had been antsy locked up in their homes for three days. The ground was soaked. Large pools of water turned into rivers, winding their way through the cobbles to the river that was ferocious in its anger, burbling and screaming as it wound its way past them.

"At least the river didn't flood," Zoe said, stretching her arms high above her head, grunting at the pull in her sore muscles. After a month of activity, she was no longer used to sitting and studying and everything had started to hurt.

"Yeah," The Doctor said, stepping onto the grass and mud, sinking up to his ankles with a surprise sound. Rose laughed at him while Zoe reached for his hands and helped him out, his body stumbling into hers. "That explains it."

She looked curious. "What does?"

He pointed his screwdriver at the ground and it hummed.

"Loam soil," he told her. "Very absorbent. It helped to keep the floodwaters down."

"They built the town on this loam soil?" Zoe asked, poking at the ground with the toe of her boot before flicking the mud off.

"Seems so." He nodded.

"Doesn't that mean that the foundation is now a sodden mess?" She said, arms folded across her chest against the cold that brushed at her even through her jacket.

"It'll dry," the Doctor said even as a small expression of worry passed through his eyes. "So long as there's not another downpour, and they're careful not to put too much pressure on the ground." He scratched behind his ear. "Actually, maybe I should have a quick word with whoever's in charge."

"Couldn't hurt," she smiled, and he bumped shoulders with her before carefully moving towards Thadeus, distributing his weight evenly, making him walk like a penguin. She stifled her laugh and turned to watch Rose and Okana pick their way across the path to make their way towards the stone bridge.

It hadn't been the most exciting trip they had taken, but it had been kind of nice to take it easy for a few days. They didn't normal pause for very long. It tended to be one destination after another with breaks long enough for Zoe and Rose to get some sleep. Gaju was an aberration in the fact that they had stayed for a week. Normally they stayed for a few hours, sometimes overnight, before they were off again. She felt rested and ready to start their adventures again, deciding to put off asking the Doctor to take them home for a quick visit. After spending three days trapped in a tavern, he would be even less willing to put up with a Sunday spent in London visiting Jackie.

"Right-o," the Doctor said, appearing at her side like a genie from a bottle. She jumped, startled, and he smirked down at her. "I'm off to find the mayor."

"Fancy some company?" She asked, desperate to stretch her legs properly.

He looked surprised and happy by her offer; he nodded, making a gesture to take her hand before catching himself and aborting the movement by shoving it into his pocket. She hadn't had to tell him that she didn't like holding hands. He had picked up on that by himself and quietly respected her preferences but sometimes – rarely – when it was just the two of them, he automatically reached for her. He yelled out to Rose who just waved at him, happy building mud pies with Okana, and they set off through the town in search of the mayor; Zoe had a flash of what her sister would be like as a mother and it made her smile.

The town had weathered the rain surprisingly well. The worst of the damage came in the form of dips in the road where it sank in on itself under the weight of the cobbles. None of the buildings dipped and Zoe assumed that was because the weight was evenly distributed across the surface. She followed in the Doctor's footsteps exactly, taking care to step where he stepped, figuring that his superior Time Lord _whatever_ told him where to step to avoid sinking into the ground.

"I'm goin' to go out on a limb and say that that's the mayor's house," Zoe said as a large, gaudy house distinguished itself from the houses around them. It seemed that those in power who liked to flaunt its wealthy trappings were universal. It towered over the other houses and looked much better constructed. "Think he's compensatin' for somethin'?"

The Doctor laughed at that and she grinned. There were already other people grouped around the house, talking and jostling against each other, clearly waiting for an audience with the mayor. Using his tall body and broad shoulders, the Doctor cleared a path for them and Zoe jogged up the slick stone steps behind him. He didn't bother knocking, and Zoe shut the door behind them on the surprised faces of the local citizens.

"Oh, this is nice," she said, stomping the water and mud from her boots. The house was cleaner and warmer than the tavern with clean walls and wooden floorboards, fires roaring in every room. "Why do we never stay in nice places like this?"

He looked a little offended. "I take you to nice places."

"The places are nice," she agreed, "the accommodation is sometimes questionable."

"I apologised for Riva VI," he grumbled.

She bit back a smile. They had intended to spend the night on Riva VI but Zoe was mistaken for a prostitute in the lobby of their hotel and had instead spent the night sitting in a police cell whilst the Doctor tried to solve the problem. The cell had been less than pleasant but the company wasn't so bad. One of her fellow criminals had a bottle of home-brewed alcohol tucked away up their leg, and they proceeded to get royally drunk until the police were happy to tip her into the Doctor's surprised arms.

The hangover hadn't been nice though. The only reason he didn't let her suffer through it was because he'd felt guilty about her being in the cell in the first place.

"Who are you?" A confused voice asked, and they both looked up and around to find the mayor staring at them. He was obviously the mayor due to his voluminous black robes and extravagant gold chain that Zoe hoped was an artefact of the office and not a personal choice.

"Hello," the Doctor said with his usual wide smile. "I'm the Doctor, this is Zoe."

She waggled her fingers. "Hello."

"We're here to help," he said.

"Oh, well, good, I suppose," the mayor replied, clearly flustered by their presence. "Although I can't say what you could help with. The rain has stopped, after all."

"Yeah, except you're going to have problems with your foundations if you don't talk to your people," The Doctor replied, and the mayor blinked at him. "Your town's built on very absorbent soil, mayor. You need to give it time to dry out before you get back to normal."

"Well..." he said before pausing. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"You've already got parts of the roads sinking in on itself," he said, the skin around his eyes tightening slightly at the mayor's tone. "If you don't talk to your people and tell them to ease off transporting things across it for the next month, at least –"

"A month!"

"Then you'll have an even bigger problem on your hands than some wet roads," the Doctor continued as though he hadn't been interrupted.

"Yes, well, thank you for your concern...Doctor, was it?" The mayor asked, and Zoe recognised the tone of his voice. It was the tone of voice of someone who didn't want to listen to reason because he either didn't understand, or he just didn't care. "It's very good of you to come to me with that. You're performing your civic duty, I like that, but, rest assured, everything will be fine."

"But –" Zoe began but the Doctor cut her off with a shake of his head, and she fell silent.

"Now, if you'll both excuse me, I need to make sure the people see me," the mayor said, straightening his outfit. "It's important to be seen at times like this, you know? Make sure everyone understands that it's business as normal."

They were ushered out of the house and lost the mayor in the crowd of people below. They watched him from the top steps as he relished in the attention of the citizens, enjoying being able to reassure them.

"Why did you stop me?" Zoe asked, looking up at the Doctor.

"Hmm?" He replied, distracted before hearing her question. "Oh. Sometimes you can't get through to people. He has the information. It's up to him to do with it what he will. No sense in wasting our time. Nothing might actually happen."

"You think that?" She asked uncertainly.

"The odds are low," he admitted, pulling a face as he did so. "Nothing to get too worried about. They'll have some bumpy roads but no one'll die."

"Oh," she said. "Bit anticlimactic."

He looked amused. "Not everything's the end of the world."

"Considerin' how we first met, I'm going to take that with a pinch of salt." She replied, and he laughed as they walked down the stairs, taking them carefully due to the rain-slicked nature of them. "So we're off then?"

"Yep," he said. "Thought we could tick something else off your list. What's next?"

"Drana," she said with a grin. "Purple oceans, Doctor."

"Purple oceans." He smiled widely at her.

Riding on a wave of affection for her alien friend, she linked her arms with him and leaned against him, cheek pressed to his shoulder. He smiled fondly down at her. She wasn't as emotionally expressive as Rose, which made the few moments she did express her affection for him all the more valuable. They walked in silence, enjoying each other's company, smiling at the people they passed before the bridge came into view. Okana was walking along the walking, holding onto Rose's hand as he did so, Thadeus smoking his pipe at the stone table where they ate lunch on their first day on Thanatos.

Okana saw them first and waved wildly at them. They waved back.

"He's a sweet kid," Zoe said.

"He is." the Doctor agreed. "He likes Rose a lot."

"Jealous, Doctor?" She teased.

"Oh, shut up," he laughed, and she laughed with him before it was cut off by an ominous rumbling sound.

She looked around, confused. "What on earth is that?"

Panic slipped across the Doctor's face. "Earthquake."

"What?"

"Earthquake!" He shouted. "Rose! Earthquake!"

The words left his mouth a moment too late. Beneath their feet, the ground exploded with anger: shaking and trembling. They were thrown to the ground, and Zoe screamed in surprise as she went down. The Doctor grabbed her and shielded her with his body from the roof tiles and windows that were shaken loose from their rightful place. The noise was overwhelming – much worse than when the missile had struck Downing Street because it came from under them instead of from the sky. It filled her ears and made her cry out in fear as it went on and on, the ground splitting beneath them, soaking their bodies with thick, wet mud that pushed to the surface, the force of it carrying them down towards the river.

The Doctor caught hold of a piece of wood that jutted out from the base of a house. He held tightly onto Zoe around her waist, and she pulled herself up his body, clinging onto his shoulders as the earthquake continued. Mud flowed into her mouth, forcing her to spit it out or drown in it.

Eventually, after many long, terrifying minutes, the ground stopped shaking. The Doctor's face was right next to hers: mud streaked and concerned.

"Are you okay?" He demanded, worry coating his words.

"Rose." Zoe coughed up mud and spat it onto the ground as she struggled to sit up. "Where's Rose?"

He helped her to her feet and they turned, stumbling towards the bridge. Zoe's stomach bottomed out. The bridge was gone, broken in two, bricks and mortar cluttered in the river below, forming a dam that was pushing the water higher and higher.

"Rose!" She cried out, panic filling her voice. She ran as quickly as she could through the mud towards the destroyed bridge, fear surging through her as the Doctor's voice joined hers. "Rosie! Rose!"

"Zoe! Doctor!" Rose called out, stumbling from the wreckage, soaked through and pale with fear and panic. She stumbled into their arms ,and Zoe held onto her tightly. "Okana. Okana – he – he let go. He's in the water."

They all turned to look at the violent, rushing water, and they could just make out the small, terrified form of Okana, clinging to the rubble.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Screams and cries of fear rose from the people of the town as the ground finally stopped shaking with its violent anger. In every direction that the eye could see, the town was destroyed – a broken, collapsed shadow of its former self. The ground had sunk in on itself and huge clumps of soil dripped where the cobbles had once lain but were now shattered and mixed with the wet earth. Houses had fallen into sink holes and twisted roofs were the only thing left visible; those who had been lucky enough to be outside their homes when the earthquake struck were trapped beneath rubble or nursing various injuries. However, it didn't take long for those who could walk and move about freely to rush the aid of their neighbours and friends, digging through the splintered wood and stumbling over the broken cobbles to pull mud-slicked people from the earth.

The horses had broken free of the stables but hadn't made it far; some of them made it out of the town and into the forest that remained tall and proud as very little damage had been done to the trees of old. The unlucky ones, however, were stuck in the quagmire that formed the centre of the town. Thick mud churned beneath the surface and had pushed up and out, trapping everything that made the mistake of crossing over it. The unfortunate horses were slowly sliding beneath the surface as they tried desperately to break free. Their cries of distress filled the air, mingling with that of the locals and the ominous, jarring sound of wood that creaked and threatened to splinter.

The three travellers from the stars were a few of the lucky ones.

They had escaped the earthquake relatively undamaged with only superficial wounds that would be easy enough for the Doctor to fix in the TARDIS when they got back. There was a dark purple line of bruising across the Doctor's palm from where he had held onto the jutted wood that kept him and Zoe from being dragged into the river' Rose had obtained a deep cut on her temple, which had turned her sister's stomach the moment Zoe had caught sight of it, because it looked worse than it was. It streaked her pale face with blood and stained into the roots of her dyed-blonde hair, but the Doctor quickly and easily took care of it with the sonic screwdriver, which was seeming more and more useful than Zoe had first believed.

As for Zoe, her sole injury was a bruised knee. She had fallen to the ground under the strength of the tremors and the weight of the Doctor's grip on her back, which had forced her to the ground. It hurt like a fresh injury and ached like an old one in equal measure, but she was able to walk on it – more or less. She wouldn't be able to run any marathons – not that she was likely to anyway – and the walk back to the TARDIS was going be uncomfortable but that was about it.

Unfortunately, Thadeus was not so lucky.

The tavern had disappeared into the water. The entire embankment had been swallowed up whole by the powerful river. He had been pulled out of the way by an eager customer in search of mead but his leg was definitely broken. White bone jutted out from the skin: mud and blood mingled dangerously together in the wound. He had also hit his head hard on the ground and kept fading in and out of consciousness, calling for his son who remained trapped on the detritus that formed a blockage in the river.

"It's okay, Okana!" Rose called down to the boy, guilt evident in the lines of tension that ran through her body as she had been the one holding onto his hand when the earthquake shook. "We're comin' to help you."

"Here," the Doctor said, dropping to lie flat on his stomach on the wet ground, pushing himself towards the end. "Don't let me fall."

They each grasped one leg each, hands wrapping around the top of his boot and palms pressing into his prickly leg hair, and they held onto him tightly as he lowered his upper body over the edge of the remnant bridge. He stretched his long arms out in an effort to reach Okana but to no avail. The distance was too wide, and Okana's tiny arms weren't able to close the space between them; his bruised and bloodied face dissolved into a fresh wave of panicked and terrified tears, his small shoulders hitching repeatedly with choked sobs.

The Doctor lowered his voice and spoke with true sincerity even as he rushed the words of reassurance, uncertain of how much time they had before another disaster struck.

"Hey. _Hey,"_ he said, voice soft and kind as he hated seeing children cry. "No need to cry. I'm going to get you up, you hear me?"

"I'm going to die!" Okana wailed, shivering in the cold; his body was soaked and muddied like the rest of them.

"You're not going to die," the Doctor said sternly. "Look at me. _Okana._ Look at me."

Okana's face tilted up. It was red from the cold and from crying.

"I'm not going to let you die," he promised. "My friends and I are going to help you. I just need you to stay calm and very, very still while we figure out what to do. Understand? Hmm? You understand?"

His little head bobbed, and he nodded.

The Doctor grinned. "Good boy. I'll be back as quick as I can."

He pushed himself up, using his thigh muscles to help leverage his body back up, and his friends helped by getting a good grip on his clothing to speed him up and ensure his safety. He slumped on the wet ruins of the bridge, shoulder knocking into Rose, his clothes completely ruined from the mud and the ground. He absently wiped at the mud on his jacket, succeeding in only spreading it further, looking at his two companions.

 _Not your companion_ Zoe's voice slipped through his mind, and he very nearly smiled at that before he reminded himself that it wasn't the time.

They both looked the worst for wear, although Zoe had borne the brunt of the misfortune as she was covered from head to foot in mud; when she had tried to wipe it from her face she only ended up making the situation worse. She was a set of hazel eyes peering out from amidst the mud, something he would have found funny in any other circumstances. His eyes darted down to her knee. She was trying to hide the injury by pushing through but he could see the way that she favoured one leg over the other. Something to deal with later, he decided, as he was unable to do anything about it now. The screwdriver could deal with surface wounds no problem by cleaning them and knitting the skin back together but deeper wounds required the medical bay.

"We need rope," he said, his mind running through a number of different rescue plans that all came back to needing some sort of rope.

"Where the hell are we going to find that?" Zoe asked as she looked around at the ruined town.

"Leave it to me," Rose said, pushing herself to her feet and rushing off.

"Hurry!" The Doctor called after her; both he and Zoe watched as she carefully ran down the broken bridge, deftly jumping over jagged outcroppings of stone, before she disappeared into the chaos of the town.

Zoe crawled to the edge of the bridge, putting most of her weight on her good knee, and peered over the side, a feeling of vertigo swooping through her stomach. It wasn't particularly high but it was high enough for her to feel a little dizzy. Her cold, stiff fingers flexed against the rough surface of the bridge, curling around the edge to hold on. She saw Okana sat on the very top of the rubble, his thin arms clinging to a broken piece of balustrade that jutted up out of the wreckage. He was sobbing against it, and her heart broke for him at the fear he had to be feeling.

A single, clear thought broke through her feelings of sympathy and worry.

She twisted around so that she could look over her shoulder at the Doctor, who had his screwdriver out and was sonicing pieces of rock before tossing them away with a grunt of disgust.

"How long does it take for aftershocks to hit?"

"Depends," he said, not looking up and _of course_ he had already considered the aftershocks _._ "Could be a few hours, could be a few days."

"Hopefully it's the latter," she said, and the idea that grew out of her simple thought swept gently into her mind, fully formed and utterly perfect – at least from her point of view. She straightened up, balancing on her uninjured knee. "Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"You're pretty strong, right?." She asked thoughtfully, her voice unconsciously angling for his agreement. He looked up from what he was doing and focused his bright eyes on her, giving her the impression he already knew what she was about to say. "D'you think you could lower me down to the –"

"I'm going to stop you right there," he said and irritation at being interrupted mid-sentence flared up inside her chest but she bit it back. "It's too dangerous."

"But –"

"If I lower you down and drop you on the rubble, your weight will disturb it and there's a 74.56% chance it'll dislodge," he explained, looking back down at his task. "If I just hold you and you try and catch hold of Okana, there's still no certainty that we'll be able to lift him up."

Exasperation filled her.

"We could at least _try._ "

"We wait for Rose," he said, his tone of voice indicating that he was done discussing it; she had to turn away to release a slow, steady breath instead of snapping at him.

Not for the first time, she wondered about the type of people who usually travelled with him in the TARDIS and whether they had put up with the way he sometimes spoke to her. A bitter, unforgiving part of her silently considered that maybe that was why he was alone when he met Rose; he had pissed off someone else and they had left the TARDIS, preferably after punching him in the face. She rubbed her hands across her face, mud coming away on her palms, forcing those thoughts from her mind as uncharitable. He could be extremely abrupt on occasion, and he considered his word to be law, expecting it to be obeyed to the letter. She was willing to make concessions to him because he was significantly older than she was, and vastly more experienced in what they were doing, but his manner of delivery needed significant improvement.

Zoe lay down on her stomach and swallowed back the vertigo. "Hey, Okana?"

His face tilted up towards her. She smiled at him.

"Hey, buddy." She said with a warm, reassuring smile. "You wanna hear a story?"

"A – a story?" He repeated, voice soft and tentative but she had his attention, which was what she had wanted.

"Yeah," she said. "I'm not a really good at tellin' them, not like Rose, but I've got a pretty good one if you want to hear it."

He hesitated but nodded.

"Great." She smiled. "So, once upon a time, there were these two people who were perfectly ordinary, thank you very much. They were called Mr and Mrs Dursley, an' they lived at Number Four, Privet Drive..."

Zoe kept Okana's attention on her and away from the danger that he was in, by weaving the early chapters of Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone to him in her own words. It seemed that the imagination of JK Rowling had universal attraction because Okana listened attentively to her, hanging on every word she spoke. His thumb migrated to his mouth, and he curled up against the balustrade where he rested his head while she told him of how Harry made the glass disappear at the London Zoo, accidentally setting a boa constrictor on his own cousin who didn't enjoy the unexpected encounter. The story was so successful that she drew a laugh from Okana as she re-enacted Dudley's screams of fear and surprise, and she felt happy that she was able to do such a thing.

Before she could begin the next part of the story where the Dursley family tried to evade the Hogwarts letters, Rose returned. She had been successful in her mission and returned carrying a large cable of thick rope that she struggled under the weight of. The Doctor, who had been listening to Zoe's story and continuing trying to meld the stones together under the sonic screwdriver, jumped to his feet and took the weight from her.

Rose dropped her hands to her knees, panting. "Will it do?"

"Yep!" The Doctor exclaimed with his familiar broad, manic grin. He unfurled it as quickly as he could. He tossed one end to Zoe, who turned onto her side and caught it with hands that fumbled from the cold ache that had set in. "Lower that over the edge to Okana. I'll hold on and lift him up when he's got hold."

She nodded. "Okay."

She rolled back over and looked down at the child, giving him another smile. "Sorry, sweetheart, but the rest of the story's goin' to have to wait."

She didn't imagine the look of disappointment that gripped his face.

"I'm goin' to throw this rope to you," she explained, "I just need you to catch hold of it, okay?"

It took four attempts for Okana to finally grasp the end of the rope between his uncertain hands. He clutched at it and followed Zoe's instructions of wrapping it around his hand so that he didn't lose hold of it. When he was ready, she gave the signal to the Doctor who began to pull slowly and carefully. Zoe kept the end of the rope steady and taut in between her own hands, allowing it to feed through back to the Doctor. She kept up a steady stream of reassurances to Okana who, when his feet lifted from the rubble, screamed. Her voice had a soothing effect on him and, after a few long moments, managed a tentative, almost hopeful smile that she couldn't help but return.

She had never spent much time around children. There were always children on the estate and occasionally Jackie would take younger children in to earn some money cash in hand when she was between jobs but Zoe never spent a lot of time with them. They were small and noisy and almost always covered in something sticky. She found children irritating most of the time. There were the few that she liked, the quiet and the cute, but generally she tended to have nothing to do with them. Not like Rose who had the Midas touch when it came to children. Zoe often thought it was because her sister was so creative that getting down onto a child's level and playing with them wasn't the stretch of the imagination that it was for Zoe, who always felt like she had something better to do.

Sometimes she envied her sister; envied her ability to let go of everything and just enjoy herself whilst Zoe was riddled with anxiety over every decision she made, only to then second guess it for months afterwards. Rose wasn't like that. She made a decision in a heartbeat and then lived with it even if it turned out badly.

Her cautious hope of a job well done lasted no longer than a second. The dreaded aftershock hit earlier and stronger than the Doctor had predicted. The world turned itself upside down, and something large and heavy bounced off the small of Zoe's back, leaving her gasping for air and her vision swimming before her. She held tightly onto the rope, her hands clenching around it when she felt it slide through her grip; the Doctor was thrown off his feet and lost his grip on the rope, sending Okana dropping back towards the river, which had burst through the makeshift dam of rubble. Pieces of the tavern flowed past, churning angrily beneath them.

Whilst Zoe was successful in keeping hold of the rope, the jerking movement dislodged Okana, who lost his grip and plummeted into the angry river below. A scream ripped from her mouth, forcing itself from lungs, leaving her dizzy and breathless. She watched helplessly as he disappeared into the torrent of water, swallowed whole by its fury as the the ground continued to shake.

There was no forethought, no great plan; despite what the Doctor would later claim, she didn't actually think. There was no decision that she made. No thought process that she worked through. For once in her life, she simply reacted. She watched Okana disappear beneath the surface of the raging river and she pushed herself off the edge of the bridge and dove in after him. The Doctor's voice, yelling her name with fear and panic, could barely be heard above the earth shaking and the river roaring.

* * *

Rose chewed her thumb nervously. Her work was done, she could only watch and wait as the Doctor and Zoe pulled Okana to safety using the rope she had found. It was a nerve-wracking experience and her stomach twisted. She looked back over her shoulder, past the Doctor, who was concentrating intensely, to where a group of people had gathered at the base of the bridge. Thadeus refused to leave until his son had been recovered, his broken leg an ugly, mangled mess of bone and flesh that turned her stomach to look at it. Even in the 21st century, a break like that might be potentially life altering. On Thanatos, he would be lucky to keep it unless she could persuade the Doctor to perform some jiggery-pokery on it in the TARDIS medical bay.

She glanced back to the Doctor and found him focused on Zoe's body, keeping her in his eyesight so that he could tell if he was moving too quickly, judging it by the tension that ran down her spine. If he moved too quickly, the line of her body tightened while she tried to compensate at her end. He was so focused on her and what he was doing that he missed the warning that he normally would have caught. The ground beneath his feet began to vibrate a split second before they were hit. The first warning he had of the aftershock was Rose crying out in surprise when she was tossed from her feet.

He felt the ground disappear beneath him, the bridge shifting where it had been embedded in the absorbent soil, and he lost his balance. He fell forward towards the rising stone. He automatically flung his hands out to break his fall, grunting at the impact that shook his bones, and he felt a fracture run down his wrist. His fingers released their grip on the rope, and he scrambled after it as it slithered from his grasp but even as he stretched out for it, he had to pull his arm back at the last moment to avoid it being crushed by falling rocks.

A piece of debris fell from above and landed on the small of Zoe's back, making her body spasm outwards in pain, but she didn't move, holding onto the rope as firmly as she could. Instead of heading towards her, he pushed himself towards Rose, shielding her body as he had shielded Zoe's not even an hour before, glancing up through the shaking world at the sound of a scream tearing through the air.

Her hands flailed wildly, the rope lost from between them, and his hearts dropped into his stomach. There was no chance that Okana could survive being tossed about in the river, not in the middle of an aftershock, and not with the amount of detritus that would slam into his small body and drag him under the surface. Regret and guilt pounded through him. Maybe he should have considered Zoe's suggestion but he had been so set against putting her in danger that he had allowed himself to be blinded. He kept one arm around Rose and opened his mouth to call out for Zoe, to pull her away from the edge, when his blood froze in his veins.

She jumped in after Okana.

"Zoe!" He yelled but she disappeared from his view before her name had even left his mouth.

Rose squirmed underneath him, twisting her body out from under his protective shield, and she made for the edge of the bridge. The ground shook under her, making it difficult for her to keep her balance, and the Doctor grabbed hold of her just in time before she ended up in the water as well.

"Zoe!" Rose screamed. "Zoe! I can't see her! Doctor, I can't see her!"

"I can!" He exclaimed as her dark head appeared in the water, only to be lost against by the crashing waves that were kicked up by the tectonic activity. He grabbed Rose's hand. "Come on!"

Even though the ground still trembled, the two of them doubled back on themselves and sprinted along the side of the river, trying to keep Zoe in their sights.

* * *

Zoe cut through the water in a neat dive.

The shock of immersing herself in the ice-cold water pushed the air from her lungs and made her skin explode as though thousands of tiny knives were cutting into her. She kicked violently for the surface, gasping when she broke through. A cursory glance around saw that she had been carried down-river at a fast pace, the current pulling her along without her consent. She struggled to keep her head above the surface, searching desperately for Okana. Fear sank into her that his small body had been torn away and tossed like a leaf in the wind within the tumultuous water that still vibrated from the aftershock.

Her muscles strained against the undertow. Her injured knee and sore back made it more difficult for her to keep her head above water. The cold intensified the throbbing in both regions and she could no longer feel her hands. She choked as she sank, pulled under by the weight of her jacket that had turned to bricks; she struggled out of the wet denim, letting it twist away from her, lost amongst the tumult. Fortunately for her, the current was so strong that by the time her body had hit the water, the debris from the tavern and the bridge had been swept away, leaving her safe from being struck by remains of buildings.

The roar of the river deafened her to everything else around her. She was unaware of the Doctor and Rose running along the river bank, trying to keep up with her, panic etched on both of their faces. Her name from their mouths lost in the noise. She dipped beneath the surface again and pushed herself up as strongly as she could, emerging like a dolphin cresting the ocean's surface.

Hope snagged in her chest. Her eyes caught sight of a small, black head bobbing in the water. She only had a moment to change course, and she felt something tear in her arm; pain lanced through her as a muscle ripped. She pushed through the pain, unable to do anything else, and fought against the current, trying to break free of it. It felt like pure luck when she slammed into the riverbank and was carried down towards the uprooted tree that Okana's body was tangled in, caught within its roots.

He was floating face down in the water, arm flapping loosely at his side, and panic surged through her.

She caught herself on one of the roots. Her body jerked in the river, pain dashing through her again. She gritted her teeth as her vision whited out for a moment, but she kept her fingers curled around the water-slicked root and refused to let go. She barely managed to stay attached to the tree. Even against the riverbank, the current was strong. With a grunt of pain and exertion, she pushed herself to fall onto another root and worked her way through the roots as quickly as she could, securing herself as she did so. When she was close enough to Okana, she reached out and dragged him towards her by the back of his soaked clothing until he bumped against her side.

She turned him over.

He wasn't breathing.

Zoe stared at him, her breath forming a white mist in front of her mouth, and she froze. His face was slack and his lips and ears were blue. Grief drove into her like an icy knife between her ribs,and she choked out an angry cry, hot tears spilling down her cheeks, burning against the frigid cold her skin was. Angry grief gave way to refusal, which in turn gave way to stubbornness. She looped her arm around Okana and lifted him over her injured shoulder, his weight – not heavy when dry but considerable when wet – pressed down against her torn muscle and the pain urged her on. She climbed up the roots with stiff limbs, water streaming off of her and overflowing from her boot – she felt as though she was walking with concrete shoes.

She managed to climb to the top of the tree, body heaving with exertion and pain. She scooped Okana into her arms and jumped from the trunk onto the slick, dangerous mud; she slid into it up to her knees but it was a fortunate thing as it absorbed the impact of her landing. She sobbed in frustration, trying to break free of the mud that pulled her down and, after too much time spent fighting through it, she was able to reach firmer ground.

"Shit," she panted, her chest heaving as she desperately drew in much needed air, her lungs and throat burning from the cold.

She didn't know what to do.

CPR had never been taught at her school, and she had only seen it in TV and films.

Her mind turning unhelpfully blank as Okana remained not breathing.

Swallowing hard against her panting breaths and deciding that any action was better than inaction, she rolled him onto his side and put him into what she thought was a close approximation of the recovery position. Hesitating only briefly, she proceeded to hit him with the flat of her palm between his shoulder blades: once – twice – three times, to no avail. She rolled him onto his back. Using her cold, blue fingers that didn't respond as quickly as she would have liked them to, she carefully tilted his head back and opened his mouth, dipping her fingers inside to clear his airways.

Uncertain if she was doing the right thing, she leaned over and breathed into his mouth. The one thing she did know about CPR was –

" _Ah – ah – ah – ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive_ ," Zoe sang shakily under her breath, her entire body shivering although she hadn't yet noticed how cold she was. " _Ah – ah – ah – ah, stayin' alive, stayin' alive_."

She breathed into his mouth again and repeated the process again and again.

Hot tears poured down her face as she looked at Okana's small, round face that had been filled with laughter and happiness only hours before. A memory that she had pushed to the back of her mind, forgetting about it amidst everything else that had taken place that day, came forward. Okana's face morphed into the face of the first dead body she had ever seen, that of the dead prime minister. She didn't want another dead body to be locked away in her memory for her to forget about.

Through her tears, she compressed his chest harder.

"Please. Please. Please. Please. Please," she begged on the cloud of white breath that slipped from her mouth.

Okana's body convulsed, and his eyes snapped open. She cried out in surprise and relief, hands scrabbling to turn him over as water was expelled from his lungs in a violent, choking regurgitation, his breakfast joining the river water.. He gasped. Choking and coughing, he drew desperately air into his lungs. His eyes were wide: bloodshot and afraid. She burst into tears and gathered him into her arms. Relief burst through her and filled every single part of her as she held onto him as tightly as she could without suffocating him.

"It's okay," Zoe breathed, smoothing Okana's hair from his face so she could look down at him, his body curled tightly into hers, shivering violently. "You're okay, Okana. You're goin' to be okay."

"I want my daddy," he cried in a hoarse, weak voice.

"I know you do," she said, slowly getting herself back under control after the rollercoaster of emotion and stress she had just ridden. She didn't know how long she had been in the water but it felt like hours. "An' I'm goin' to take you back to him. Can you walk?"

"I – I think so," he replied, sniffing against her shoulder.

"Good boy," she said, her stiff arms reluctantly unwinding from their clenched position around Okana to allow him to clamber to his own feet, unsteady but able to support his own weight.

The pain in her arm had her crying out, face grimacing against it. It hurt. Nausea swam in her stomach. She swallowed it back. When her vision cleared, Okana was standing and looking at her, afraid.

"Are you okay?" He asked fearfully; she was struck by how, in his eyes, she was an adult and believed her to be as infallible as she had once believed all adults were when she was a child.

The responsibility was overwhelming.

"Oh, I'm fine, little man." She managed to smile, the pain having left her breathless. "Just a bit – just a bit tired, is all. You might have to help me on the way back."

"I can do that." He nodded bravely, and she smiled at him, accepting his outstretched hand, and she slowly got to her feet. He turned his head and pointed with his free hand. "Look."

She turned her head and looked to where he was pointing. On the opposite riverbank, Rose and the Doctor were stood watching them. She raised her hand and gave a little wave.

"Come on then," she said, dropping her hand with some relief. "I don't know about you, but I am extremely cold right now, an' I want to put on some dry clothes so...quick march, soldier."

Slowly, due to Zoe's knee, they made their way back upriver to town where she would deliver Okana into the arms of his extremely grateful father.

* * *

Zoe turned the water up as hot as she could bear it, letting it lash at her skin to chase away the cold that had settled deep in the marrow of her bones. She hadn't been able to stop shivering as they made their quick goodbyes to Okana and his father; the two were delighted and relieved to be reunited and deeply grateful to those who had made it possible. They had walked out of town until they were in the forest where the Doctor left Zoe and Rose to hurry ahead to get the TARDIS as Zoe's knee wouldn't carry her that far. She sat on the muddy ground wrapped in the Doctor's large leather jacket and was half-asleep by the time she heard the familiar sounds of the TARDIS.

She stepped right under the spray and curled in on herself. Her weight was resting on her good leg, and she closed her eyes at the warmth as she tried desperately to stop shivering. Her arms felt like iron bars when she lifted them to soap her hair with shampoo, working it through her thick curls with less care than she normally took with it. As the suds rinsed down her body, she felt exhaustion sweep into her; she swayed, catching herself on the wall. Forgoing her usual conditioning routine, she stumbled out of the shower. The water turned off behind her, and she grabbed a towel and half-heartedly rubbed herself down before wrapping her tired and bruised body in her thick bathrobe.

One side of her face was already purpling. She couldn't remember hitting it, but she couldn't remember a lot of things about her terrifying swim. Slowly, she brushed her teeth and just managed to wrap her hair in a towel before limping out.

The Doctor was outside in her bedroom waiting for her. She started, hand pressed to her chest.

"Fuck me, Doctor," she swore. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I want to look at your leg," he said gruffly, dark green sleeves pushed up his elbows, jacket discarded somewhere. It looked like he had availed himself of a shower as well.

"Where's Rose?" She asked, accepting his help to the sickbay that the TARDIS mercifully put close by.

"She fell asleep before the kettle finished boiling," he said, lifting her onto the bed despite her protestations. She tugged the bathrobe back across her thigh, suddenly conscious of the fact that she was naked underneath it. She watched his back, which was lined with tension. "How do you feel?"

"Sore," she admitted. "Very sore."

He turned back around, hands full. He pressed a hypospray into her neck and some of the soreness eased. It wasn't completely gone but gone enough that it helped chase a bit of her exhaustion away. She blinked and stretched the muscles in her face; she was able to focus more clearly on him now. She noticed that a muscle in his jaw was twitching when he took a seat in front of her and took her injured leg in his hands. He carefully moved the bathrobe from over it, and he breathed in sharply at the sight of her knee, swollen and bruised, the kneecap lost amongst the mess. He gently pressed it and a sound of pain left her mouth.

His eyes darted up to her. "Sorry."

"S'fine." She breathed in through her nose, fingers curled around the edge of the bed. The pain and the awkwardness of him holding her bare knee when she _wasn't wearing underwear_ made her want the medical care over as soon as possible. "Can you fix it?"

He tenderly smoothed his thumbs around the edge of her injury. "Yes."

She made a small sound of approval in her throat and leaned back against the wall as he busied himself with scanning the injury and then setting about fixing it. A local anaesthetic kept her from feeling the bones and muscles fixing themselves, shifting back into their proper place, knitting torn ligaments. She tried not to look at her knee, feeling sick at the movement beneath her skin. She instead focused on the Doctor's head as a means of distracting herself.

There were a few flecks of grey mixed with the black stubble; she hadn't noticed them before.

"How long will the recovery take?" She asked, flicking her eyes away from the top of his head to stare at the clean white walls.

"A week," he said, and she frowned at the tone of his voice. "You need to stay off it. No pressure, no running. Walking a small distance will be okay but nothing strenuous."

"Okay," he said, focusing on him again. "Are you goin' to tell me why you're angry with me?" He looked up at her and met her eyes. "Or am I goin' to have to guess?"

"I'm not angry," he said, and she ran her tongue across the front of her teeth, irritated at the lie.

"Fine." She shrugged, an edge to her voice. "You're not angry with me."

Sometimes, she thought, as she waited patiently in the silence for him to tell her what was on his mind, it was like dealing with a child. It didn't take long. He was rubbing some oil into her skin to help with the bruising when he started speaking again.

"You nearly died today," he said.

"That's true," she agreed, although she had only become aware of how close to death she was when she had pulled herself and Okana out of the river and was walking back, her body sore and aching and the adrenaline was leaving her system. "But I didn't. Nor did Okana."

His fingers rubbed circles on her knee, pressing a little too hard and making her breathe in sharply. He removed his touch from her and reached for the bandage he would wind around her injured knee.

"I'm pleased that Okana is alive," he said. "I'm not pleased that you risked your life to save him."

"What other choice did I have?" She asked. "There was no one else to help him. I was it."

"It wasn't your responsibility," he said, anger licking at his words; she felt her own chest tighten, her blood heating in her veins.

"Then whose was it?" She snapped, struggling to control her temper from his kindling. "Yours? I know your ego is quite somethin' but it doesn't always have to be you, Doctor!"

"My ego?" He shot back, tying off the bandage with an uncomfortable jerk that sent a frisson of pain through her leg. She let it make her angrier. "This isn't about me, Zoe. This is about you acting like a stupid, reckless child."

"Don't call me stupid!" The word set fire to her wavering control, and it ignited the anger inside of her that exploded outwards. "Or a child!"

"I will as long as you continue to not follow the rules I set down," he snapped like a father pushed too far.

"Let me perfectly fuckin' clear right now," Zoe said. Her voice was cold and furious, and she wrenched her leg from his grasp and slid off the bed so that she could stand against it as she stared down at the Doctor where he sat in his seat, his head tilted back to look up at her. "Whilst I appreciate the opportunity that you've given me to travel, I'm not goin' to be dictated to. I'm not your daughter or your wife or whatever else makes you think that you have the right to speak to me as you've just done."

He opened his mouth, but she barrelled through whatever he wanted to say.

"In the last month, I've learnt more than I could possibly imagine, an' the most important thing I've learnt is that we just don't stand by when we can do somethin'." There were high spots of colour on her cheeks to match the passion in her voice. "We don't wait for someone else. We stand up, an' we do it! I was in a position to save Okana, an' so I did. I had it under control – an' I don't need or want you treatin' me like some misbehavin' child just because you were scared!"

Her chest heaved with her anger. "I'm not goin' to apologise for what I did. I did the right thing, I know that. So if you feel that I'm no longer welcome on the TARDIS because of it? Fine. Take me home now, because I won't be spoken to like this, Doctor. Not by you. Not by anyone."

And with that, she pushed past him and made an undignified exit from the medical bay by limping out. She left behind an angry, speechless Doctor.

The TARDIS made it easier for her and brought her room forward. The door appeared like an oasis in the desert. She pushed it open and collapsed onto her bed: exhausted, sick, and upset. She pressed her face into her pillow but fell asleep before she could start crying.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

For two days, Rose didn't interfere in the aftermath of the argument between the Doctor and her sister. She didn't know what it was about. She hadn't heard any raised voices but the atmosphere in the TARDIS was different when she woke from her deep sleep after Thanatos. The Doctor was scowling to himself as he banged around the TARDIS, tinkering with things that didn't need tinkering with; and Zoe remained locked in her room. She didn't even let Rose in, preferring to ignore the knocks and calls through the door. The Doctor said that she was fine – her knee was a little battered and bruised, and she was resting it. Rose thought that the two of them were idiots and needed to stop avoiding each other but she took the opportunity to continue her exploration of the TARDIS in the hope that, when she came back, they would have stopped being so stubborn and be friends again.

Unfortunately, she had underestimated both their stubbornness and their idiocy.

Thankfully, the TARDIS seemed to be on the same wavelength as she had picked up a distress signal that pulled them out of the Time Vortex. The Doctor told Rose to go and get Zoe whilst he struggled to maintain his control.

"Zoe, wake up!" Rose banged repetitively on her sister's door; she planned to annoy her until the door opened. "Zo-eeee! Zoe! Zoe! Zoe-Zoe-Zoe-Zoe-Zoe-Zoe-Zo –"

The door ripped open beneath her fist.

"What?" Zoe demanded, forehead turned down in anger and irritation.

Rose smiled brightly at her.

"Adventure time," she said but her sister looked singularly unimpressed. "Something's pullin' the TARDIS off course. We need to investigate."

Zoe's frown deepened, but she didn't move. Rose cast her eye over her. She wasn't wearing pyjamas exactly but they weren't the type of clothing that Zoe normally walked about in public in.

"You want to change?" She asked.

"Go on without me," Zoe said, waving her book haphazardly in the air.. "I'm going to stay and read."

"Nope," Rose said, snatching the book from her sister's hand and marking her place before tossing it back into the room and grabbing Zoe's hand. "I don't care that you an' the Doctor have had a barney. I care that you're both sulkin' at opposite ends of the TARDIS. We're goin' to have fun today an' get back to normal even if I have to force the both of you to do it."

Zoe grumbled and limped after her in her thick socks – prone as she was to cold feet, she normally wore the thickest socks she could when at home. The TARDIS was in the process of materialising at their destination when they entered the control room. Zoe cast her eyes towards the Doctor and quickly snapped them away when he looked around, the atmosphere turning awkward. Neither of them spoke to each other as they followed Rose, who was still dragging Zoe by the hand, out into the dimly lit, carpeted area that was filled with display cases.

"So?" Rose asked, looking around. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Don't know," the Doctor shrugged, locking the TARDIS behind them. "Some kind of signal drawing the TARDIS off course."

"I didn't know that was possible," Zoe said before abruptly remembering that she wasn't actually speaking to him, and she clamped her mouth shut.

"Sometimes it is," he said, making sure to look just past her so their eyes weren't able to meet. "Depends on the signal...and her mood."

Zoe looked around at all the display cases filled with alien artefacts. It had the look of a museum but it didn't feel much like one. Rose leaned close to one case.

"Where are we then?" She asked.

"Earth," the Doctor said unhelpfully. She slid an unimpressed gaze towards him. "Utah, North America. About a mile underground."

Rose's eyes sparkled. "And _when_ are we?"

The Doctor's nose nearly touched the clear glass of one case, his breath misting the surface. "2012."

"God, that's so close," she muttered, looking to Zoe. "So I should be 26, and you'd be 23."

"24," Zoe corrected. "You missed a year, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Rose said, squeezing her hand before releasing it to look around properly. "It's a great big museum. An alien museum."

"More like a collector's room," Zoe said, taking in the complete absence of dust. The Doctor glanced at her. "It looks far too clinical to be a museum. Someone must have a pretty expensive hobby to go 'round collectin' all of this. Look –" she pointed at the small, engraved golden plaques. "Chunks of meteorite, moon dust. Apparently this is a milometer from the Roswell spaceship. Should've known that was real."

Rose made a disgusted sound in her throat, pointing back behind her. "That's a bit of Slitheen! That's a Slitheen arm! It's been _stuffed_!"

The Doctor brushed past both of them, breathing out in a soft, awed exhale. "Oh, look at you."

They both followed him to a glass display that contained a square metallic hand with two handles on the side. Rose peered at it, the plaque that was absent any useful information.

"What is it?"

"An old friend of mine," the Doctor said, looking almost sad. "Well, enemy really. The stuff of nightmares reduced to an exhibit. I'm getting old."

He sounded sad, soft, and a little defeated. Zoe swallowed, uncomfortable with his display of emotion.

"Is that were the signal's comin' from?" She asked.

The Doctor shook his head.

"No. It's stone dead," he said. "The signal's alive. Something's reaching out, calling for help."

He reached out and gently touched his fingertips to the glass. An alarm started blaring all around them and Zoe jumped, startled out of the silence by the flashing red lights and the sirens that made her wince, heart pounding in her chest. The three of them looked warily at each other as armed guards rushed into the room, surrounding them, and, once again, Zoe found herself staring down the barrel of a gun. Every part of her started to sweat.

Rose slowly raised her hands and spoke so that only the Doctor and Zoe could hear her. "If someone's collecting aliens then that makes you Exhibit A."

* * *

Wherever they were – and Zoe thought they were in some sort of underground facility if the lack of windows were anything to go by – they definitely weren't supposed to be there. The Doctor's psychic paper wasn't going to be able to get them out of trouble this time. It wasn't as though they had walked in through the front door; they had appeared on the very bottom level and explaining that away was going to be... _interesting._ They walked through the underground corridors with their armed guards – they were definitely in a private installation as no government force was so well-armed and they were too neat looking to be government soldiers. She walked behind the Doctor, her knee throbbing whilst his body exuded curiosity at their situation but lacking any of the worry she felt.

She doubted she was ever going to get used to having guns pointed at her.

They entered a small, somewhat cluttered office where the air conditioning whined softly in the background and tickled at the back of her neck. Her eyes zeroed in on the man sitting behind a small desk: perfectly tailored suit, obnoxious beard, and smug eyes – he was definitely the man with the money. He didn't spare them a glance when they entered, letting the younger man fuss over him, showing him various alien objects that were clearly new to the owner.

The younger man's eyes flickered over to them curiously, lingering on Rose for just a beat too long.

"And this is the last," he said with a noticeable British accent, pulling his attention back to his boss. "Paid $8000 for it."

The owner took it carelessly in his hands, and the Doctor stiffened at the disrespect.

"What does it do?" The owner asked.

"Well, you see the tubes on the side?" He asked, pointing with a perfectly manicured finger. Zoe rubbed her middle finger against the hangnail on her index, resisting the urge to bite it. "It must be to channel something...I think maybe fuel."

The Doctor dropped his hands into his pockets.

"I really wouldn't hold it like that," he said, and Zoe lifted her eyes to the ceiling, a small smile threatening to spread across her face. She recognised his tone of voice.

"Shut it," Diana Goddard said, poking the Doctor in the back and earning a small, indignant _ow_ for her troubles.

"Really though," the Doctor said, eyeing Diana with a scowl. "That's wrong."

The younger man looked hesitant. "Is it dangerous?"

"No, it just looks silly." He shrugged, and Zoe huffed out a small laugh although she was certain that he would get at least one of them shot. He reached for the item and firing bolts clicked all around them; Zoe's chest tightened. The owner eyed him for a moment before handing him the curved, palm-sized object and the guns slowly lowered. "You just need to be delicate."

The Doctor's fingers brushed softly and tenderly across the object and an ethereal tone of music filled the room. His fingers played several different notes, and the owner leaned forward in fascination.

"It's a musical instrument," he whispered.

The Doctor nodded and lifted his fingers from the surface. "And it's a long way from home."

"Here, let me." he said, reaching out with eager fingers that reminded her of a child stretching out for a toy; the Doctor passed it across to him. Zoe and Rose both repressed winces at the sounds that were produced from the man's less than delicate touch.

"I did say delicate," The Doctor reminded him. "It reacts to the smallest fingerprint. It needs precision."

Holding his breath and focusing, the man was able to produce gentler notes that were easier on the ears.

"Very good." The Doctor nodded. "Quite the expert."

"As are you," he said before tossing the musical instrument carelessly on the floor. Rose hissed in disapproval, and though Zoe couldn't see the Doctor's face, she could well imagine his own tight look of disapproval at such greedy negligence. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor, this is Zoe and Rose," the Doctor said. Rose raised her hand and gave her fingers a little wriggle. "Who are you?"

"Like you don't know." The man scoffed. "We're hidden away with the most valuable collection of extra-terrestrial artefacts in the world and you just stumbled in by mistake?"

"That just about sums him up, to be honest," Zoe said, ignoring the Doctor's look of offence that he shot her. "Trust me."

"The question is," he continued, ignoring her. "How did you get in? Fifty-three floors down with your little cat burglar accomplices. You're quite a collector yourself, they're rather pretty."

"They're going to smack you if you keep talkin' like that," Rose snapped back, deeply unimpressed with the man in front of them.

"She's English too!" He laughed. "Hey, little Lord Fauntleroy. Got you a girlfriend."

The younger man, Adam, stepped forward. "This is Mr Henry Van Statten."

He said the name as though it was supposed to mean something but the three of them had never heard of him before. Rose raised her eyebrows.

"An' who's he when he's at home?"

"Mr Van Statten owns the Internet." Adam said.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid. No one _owns_ the Internet."

"And let's just keep the whole world thinking that way, right, kids?" Van Statten said with a grin that Zoe supposed he thought was charming but fell far short of the mark.

"So you're an expert in everything except the things in your museum," The Doctor concluded, instantly recognising the type of man that faced him as he had met hundreds before. "Anything you don't understand, you lock up."

Van Statten looked up at him. "And you claim greater knowledge"

"I don't need to make claims," the Doctor said. "I know how good I am."

Zoe and Rose exchanged a glance at the pissing contest they were witnessing. Van Statten stood up.

"And yet I captured you," he said. "Right next to the Cage. What were you doing down there?"

The Doctor shrugged. "You tell me."

"The cage contains my one living specimen."

"And what's that?"

Van Statten's dark eyes narrowed. "Like you don't know."

"Show me."

"You want to see it?"

"Jesus Christ," Zoe sighed, rubbing between her eyes. "Can you two put your cocks away sometime soon? All this testosterone is goin' to choke me."

"Goddard," Van Statten snapped, "inform the Cage we're heading down. You, English. Look after the girls. Go and canoodle or spoon or whatever it is you British do. And you, Doctor with no name, come and see my pet."

"Yeah, this sounds like more fun," Zoe said, pointing at the Doctor and Van Statten. She looked to her sister. "Mind if I leave you alone with –?"

She waggled her fingers in Adam's direction who looked a little offended.

"Nah, go ahead," Rose replied, giving her a low high-five. "Someone needs to keep the Doctor out of trouble."

Van Statten looked like he wanted to protest her joining them but ultimately said nothing and conceded to her accompanying them. The group left Rose and Adam behind where, within five minutes, Zoe and the Doctor were certain that Rose would have gleaned new and important information out of the man as she had a knack for extracting information from people; she was charming and friendly where the Doctor could be intimidating and Zoe blunt and awkward. They moved down the corridor, Zoe's cane – a rather ornate one that Rose had found in the wardrobe – clacked against the floor when she set it down to put her weight on it. The Doctor matched her pace, forcing the group to go at a pace that she found comfortable. Despite her low, simmering anger with him, she was grateful for his consideration.

They arrived in the outer work space of a heavily fortified room. Zoe rested her weight on her cane as Van Statten started to talk again.

"We've tried everything," he said. "The creature has shielded itself but there's definite signs of life inside."

"It's alive?" Zoe asked, horrified. "You've imprisoned a live creature down here? What gives you the right to do that?"

"Money, sweetcheeks."

"Zoe," The Doctor warned, his hand shooting out to grip her shoulder before she did something stupid like smack the smarmy look off Van Statten's face. She glared but nodded. "You say it's shielded itself. What has it shielded itself within?"

"That's what I'd like to know."

"Welcome back, sir," a scientist with the name SIMMONS stitched into his lab coat said, approaching them. "I've had to take the power down. The Metaltron is resting."

"Metaltron?" Zoe asked. "Is that it's name?"

Van Statten straightened. "Thought of it myself."

"It shows." She replied, and the Doctor coughed to cover his laughter.

Van Statten scowled. "I'd much prefer to find out it's real name though."

"Here," Simmons said, holding out a pair of gauntlets. "You'd better put these on. The last guy that touched it burst into flames."

"I won't touch it then," the Doctor said, glancing back to Zoe. "Stay here."

"Happy to do so," she said, not intending to step through that door now that she knew someone had burnt to death.

"Go ahead, Doctor," Van Statten said, the doors opening. "Impress me."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and stepped through the doors into the darkened room. Zoe's stomach tightened at the sight of the doors closing on him. She stared at the door as Van Statten and Diana went to a desk fitted with monitors.

"Don't open that door until we get a result," Van Statten ordered.

Zoe frowned at the back of their heads, tightening her hand on her cane. She shifted so that she could better see the monitors that showed the Doctor, shadowed in the dark room that was illuminated only by the emergency lighting above the door. His entire body seemed relaxed but she worried her thumb against the smooth handle of her cane. Van Statten said that the alien was alive but inside of something. She assumed it must be a powerful protective layer that had the ability to transmit a signal or else the TARDIS wouldn't have been pulled off course. She wondered how many species were able to pull the TARDIS off course. She also, remembering the Doctor's comment about the metal head belonging to an enemy, wondered how many of them were friendly.

When one lived for nearly a millennia, she supposed one picked up enemies as easily as one picked up friends.

"Look, I'm sorry about this," the Doctor said, his voice distorted over the monitor. He sounded apologetic and a little exasperated. "Mr Van Statten might think he's clever but...never mind him. I've come to help. I'm the Doctor."

A white light blinked suddenly, appearing next to a circular blue glow. Clearly that had never happened before because the room burst into excited energy.

"Doc-tor?"

A voice like nothing Zoe had ever heard in her life croaked mechanically over the monitor.

"Oh my god," Van Statten breathed at the metallic voice that emerged from the creature. "It's talking."

Zoe remained focused on the Doctor. She had never seen someone so surprised and so terrified at the same time.

"Impossible," he breathed, horrified.

"The Doc-tor?"

Simmons hit a button and the room was flooded with light. To Zoe's eyes, it looked like a large, bad-tempered pepper pot that was held in chains.

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!" The creature cried.

The Doctor flew to the door, his fists hammering on it, his terror bleeding over into his voice as his voice cracked with desperation. "Let me out! Let me out! _ZOE!_ Let me out!"

"Sir!" Diana exclaimed. "It's going to kill him!"

"But it's talking," Van Statten breathed, and Zoe whipped around, bringing her cane crashing across the back of his head and shoulders with such force that it cracked right down the length. She slammed the end of it into Simmons's chest and pushed him back as the Doctor screamed her name.

"Open the fuckin' door, now!" Zoe yelled, and Simmons stared at her, afraid, one hand clutching where she had jabbed him; Diana leaned across him and slapped her hand on the button that opened the doors. Zoe pulled back and ran with a strong limp to the room, intending to grab the Doctor and pull him out of there.

He nearly fell into her he was so close to the door, and she caught him. She could feel his hearts thundering in his chest, his pupils blown wide with terror. The creature behind them continued speaking.

"You are an enemy of the Daleks!" It cried. "You must be destroyed."

The Doctor grabbed hold of Zoe, planning to push her out of the way when its gun arm twitched and nothing happened. It took a moment for the Doctor to realise that nothing had happened and his steps into Zoe faltered, his grip on her easing just a little. He looked over his shoulder.

"It's not working," he said, voice deceptively normal.

Zoe's fingers gripped at his wrist. "What?"

The Dalek looked down at its gun arm and its impotent weapon. The Doctor laughed and his face seemed cruel and excited.

"Fantastic! Oh, fantastic! Powerless! Look at you," he taunted. "The great space dustbin. How does it feel?"

"Doctor," Zoe hissed at him but he pulled himself out of his grip, dropping his hands from her waist and shoulder to saunter in front of the now-named Dalek with all the confidence that had been missing only moments before.

The Dalek waved its arm at the Doctor's approach. "Keep back!"

The Doctor stood inches away from it, bending at the waist to peer into the glowing blue eye piece. There was a cold cruelty in his words that Zoe hadn't expected from him.

"What for? What're you going to do to me?" He demanded. "If you can't kill, then what are you good for, Dalek? What's the point of you? You're nothing. What the hell are you here for?"

The Dalek answered. "I am waiting for orders."

"What does that mean?"

"I am a soldier," the Dalek said. "I was bred to receive orders."

"Well, you're never going to get any," the Doctor spat. "Not ever."

"I demand orders!"

"They're never going to come!" He shouted, his anger cracking through his voice, pain twisting at his words. "Your race is dead! You all burnt, all of you. Ten million ships on fire. The entire Dalek race wiped out in one second!"

The picture he painted was a horrible one. The Dalek didn't believe him. "You lie."

"I watched it happen," he snapped back. "I _made_ it happen."

Zoe stared at him, horrified. The Dalek looked at him out of its eyepiece.

"You destroyed us?" It croaked.

The Doctor wavered. "I had no choice."

"And what of the Time Lords?" The Dalek asked. _Time Lords_. The Doctor's people. Zoe knew that much though she hadn't asked more out of respect for his privacy.

"Dead," he said, his words dull and lifeless as though he was still numb to the reality of his words. "They burnt with you. The end of the Last Great Time War. Everyone lost."

"And the coward survived," the Dalek observed cuttingly; there was a long moment of silence between the two old enemies before the Doctor burst into action again, pushing aside his pain and grief.

"Oh, but I caught your little signal," the Doctor said, provoking it. " _Help me_! Poor little thing. But there's no one else coming because there's no one else left."

"I am alone in the universe," it said, sounding sad to Zoe's ears as the realisation that it was the last of its kind began to sink in.

"Yep."

"So are you," The Dalek noted. "We are the same."

"We're not the same!" The Doctor protested angrily. "I'm not –" he cut himself off abruptly. "No, wait. Maybe we are. You're right. Yeah, okay. You've got a point. Because I know what to do. I know what should happen. I know what you deserve." He leapt towards the lever and grabbed it with both hands. "Exterminate."

Zoe screamed out in surprise and horror when the lever was pulled and the Dalek was hit with powerful electricity that wrapped itself around its metallic frame and electrocuted it. Its screams were agonising as it cried out and the Doctor just stood there and watched.

"Doctor! Stop this!" She cried.

"No," he said darkly.

"Doctor, please, stop!" Zoe begged him. "This isn't you. Please. Stop!"

He turned his head and she didn't recognise him.

His face was the same as it always was but everything else was different: darkness, hatred, revenge, bitterness were all at home in the lines of his face, burning with an anger she never knew existed. The often times charming, most times grumpy alien who was fond of chips, humans, and the stars had been replaced with hatred and anger in physical form. It took her breath away and terrified her like nothing else.

"This is me," he said, moving to turn up the voltage.

She believed him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

The Doctor was furious. _Humans –_ constantly playing with things they don't understand, completely ignorant of the danger that was at their fingertips. His hearts thundered heavily in his chest, and his skin crawled with the knowledge that despite everything a Dalek had survived the Time War. After everything he had done to ensure that the Daleks would be wiped from existence, it had all been for nothing. He glowered at the door of the lift that he and Zoe had been roughly bundled into. He glanced in her direction. She stood straight backed and proud, but she hadn't so much as looked him in the eye since he was dragged away from the Dalek, its screams ringing in their ears as the scientists rushed to take readings from the creature.

Van Statten stood facing them, his back to the lift doors as it ascended slowly from floor fifty-three where the Dalek was kept.

"Tell me about the Dalek," he ordered.

"She doesn't know anything," the Doctor said, indicating Zoe with a jerk of his head whilst ignoring the command. "She's never even heard the word Dalek before today."

"If you tell me about it, I won't need the information from her now, will I?" Van Statten replied, and the Doctor narrowed his eyes at the other man as Zoe stiffened imperceptibly, well aware of the threat that lingered in those words.

Still, perhaps the idiot might just listen and Zoe and Rose would be spared the type of interrogation that the Doctor was certain was coming his way.

"The metal's just battle armour," he said. "The real Dalek creature's inside."

Van Statten's tongue darted out to moisten his lips. Disgust curled within the Doctor at the sight of such unabashed greed.

"What does it look like?"

"A nightmare. It's a mutation," he said honestly; even though Zoe hadn't moved, remaining as still as granite, he knew that she was listening intently, so he spoke to her rather than the idiot human in front of him. "The Dalek race was genetically engineered. Every single emotion was removed except hate."

"Genetically engineered," Van Statten repeated. "By whom?"

"By a genius, Van Statten," the Doctor said shortly, eyeing him up and finding him wanting. "By a man who was king of his own little world. You'd like him."

"It's been on Earth for over fifty years," Diana said, her eyes moving back and forth between her employer and the Doctor. "Sold at a private auction, moving from one collection to another. Why would it be a threat now?"

"Because I'm here," he said. "How did it get to Earth? Does anyone know?"

"The records say it came from the sky like a meteorite," she answered, and Zoe shifted her eyes from staring straight ahead to the other woman. "It fell to Earth on the Ascension Islands. It burnt in its crater for three days before anybody could get near it, and all that time it was screaming. It must've gone insane."

"It must have fallen through time," the Doctor murmured. He had done the same thing after he had clawed his way into his TARDIS as Gallifrey splintered and burnt behind him. He had fallen through time and space only to emerge with his skin tingling from his regeneration and confusion, fear, and anguish swirled around him as he fell to his knees in the Foreman junk yard. "The only survivor."

"You talked about a war?" Diana asked – not quite hesitant but not confident either.

"The Time War," he said, feeling the weight of the universe pressing down on him. Zoe shifted very slightly, and her shoulder pressed against him to give him her strength and support, although neither of them were sure that he deserved it. "The final battle between my people and the Dalek race."

"But you survived too," Van Statten said.

"Not by choice," he said, and Zoe moved her hand and curled her fingers around his, squeezing them tightly before letting go.

He wished she hadn't.

"This means that the Dalek isn't the only alien on Earth," Van Statten said, eyes gleaming and the tension in the lift changed. "Doctor, there's you. The only one of your kind in existence."

Zoe moved to stand in front of him, anger rippling through her body like an electrical pulse.

"Don't you dare touch him," she warned with a voice that trembled only slightly from fear.

"Zoe..." the Doctor said, hand on her shoulder to move her. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." She shook off his hand. "None of this is okay. You're like a child, Van Statten – a selfish, greedy child who doesn't care who or what he hurts so long as it entertains him. You have the last of a species down in your basement an' instead of talkin' to it, instead of tryin' to be kind to it, you chain it up an' torture it. You disgust me."

"I really don't care what you think, honey," Van Statten replied, and he flicked his fingers.

One of the armed guards moved swiftly and without hesitation. He pressed a taser stick into the soft flesh of Zoe's stomach. She fell to the ground, gasping and shaking, unable to cry out through the pain that bloomed outwards and made her fingers and toes tingle.

"No!" The Doctor yelled.

He swung his fist at the guard and knocked him back. The guard behind him jabbed his own taser stick into the small of the Doctor's back and and the electric charge jolted through his body, sending him staggering into a wall before the heavy baton came down against the back of his head and his vision speckled before it faded as darkness rushed up to greet him.

* * *

When Zoe regained consciousness, she found that she was in a small holding cell. She had been dumped unceremoniously on the floor and the door locked shut behind her. Her head throbbed fiercely and her knee screamed at her. She must have hit it when she had collapsed under the taser. She groaned and reached out with a stiff, sore arm. Her body was still bruised and sore from Thanatos, and with the new injuries she felt as though she had also been tossed in front of a car and run over a couple of times. She tried to speak, but it took her a few attempts before she could do so.

"Doc-tor?" She rasped but there was no answer, and she instantly knew he wasn't there for he would have been at her side the second she showed signs of waking up.

She struggled to sit up, her head swimming. She rested her back against the wall and breathed in deep and slow as she tried not to vomit. She hoped that she would never be tased again. Her stomach throbbed with a painful ache that reminded her of the one time she had attempted to do sit ups but so much worse. It took a long while for her to get her body back under control. Minutes ticked by, and she sat there, back propped up against the cold concrete wall, chin slumped towards her chest whilst she took stock of her injuries. It was really just her head and knee that hurt the most as her stomach was already fading to a dull throb. Eventually the world stopped spinning and she stopped feeling like she was about to throw up last night's dinner.

It was only then that she took note of the flashing red light in the corner of the room. Red was not a good sign. Red meant danger. Red made her think that perhaps all was not well with the Dalek.

 _Of course_ she thought to herself as she pushed herself up onto her feet, testing her weight. It hurt like hell but she could walk – not that she had much of a choice. She tried the door and was surprised that it was unlocked. She considered the possibility that it was a safety protocol, as such that in the event of an emergency all doors on the base were automatically unlocked. She didn't think too much on it. She pushed the door open and stepped out into a deserted corridor with the floor level in black on the wall.

 **52**

She braced herself against a wall and looked around for a lift. She found one and made her way towards it, limping and supporting herself as best she could. She pressed the button once. Then she pressed it rapidly, cursing under her breath when it didn't light up. Of course the lift would be down. She looked around for a staircase or anything and found the traditional emergency exit sign above a set of doors. Apparently even secret alien museums buried beneath the surface of the Earth had to abide by health and safety regulations.

"Right then," she sighed, staring at the stairs before her as though they were Mount Olympus, and she stretched her knee carefully. She winced but had no other option. "Once more unto the breach an' all that."

After twenty minutes of breathless struggle to floor fifty, Zoe considered whether it would be better just to hide in a cupboard until it was all over. She panted heavily against the wall when the sound of gunfire startled her and caused her heart to leap in her chest. The doors on floor fifty-three burst open, and Rose and Adam spilled into the stairwell as the sound of death and destruction followed them.

"Rose!" She yelled over the banister. Her sister looked up and relief flashed across her face before she took the stairs two at a time and they fell into each other, hugging tightly. "You're okay."

"Are you?" Rose asked, pulling back and taking in her sister's appearance. "What happened to you?"

"Those assholes tased me!" She exclaimed, still annoyed whilst Adam made it up the stairs. "It hurt like hell, an' I think I fell on my knee. What's happenin'?"

"That thing escaped," Rose said, pulling Zoe's arm around her shoulder to take her weight. "It's killin' everyone."

"The Doctor said it would," Zoe said, taking no pleasure in the Doctor being right. "It's called a Dalek. Apparently the Doctor's people fought it durin' a war. It's the only survivors of their species."

"Oh my god," Rose breathed before flinching at the sound of more death. "Adam, take her other arm."

The man looked around in terrified confusion. "What?"

"Her arm!" Rose snapped. "She can't move fast so we have to help her. Take it!"

Adam did as he was told and Zoe was able to move much quicker. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as the Dalek hovered up the stairs to kill more people. Fear pounded through her.

"Rose, d'you have your phone?"

"Yeah," Rose grunted, fishing in the pocket of her jeans and thrusting it into her sister's hand. Zoe moved quickly through the contacts and hit the Doctor's number. He didn't have a phone, not really, but the TARDIS routed calls for him through the nearest telephone available, be it a mobile, a public telephone box, or an office phone.

" _Rose!_ " The Doctor's relieved voice came down the line.

"Wrong sister, but she's fine," Zoe answered, and she heard his breath of relief at hearing her voice. "We runnin' up through the stairwells. We're on floor fifty but my knee is fucked. Can you do anythin' to help us?"

" _Give me a second,_ " he requested and in the office that he, Van Statten, and Goddard were sequestered in he turned around and addressed himself to Diana. "Do you have a map of the base?"

"Yeah, yes," Diana nodded, terrified but able to function whilst ignoring Van Statten's ridiculous demands that the Dalek was not to be fired upon. The Doctor abhorred violence despite his success at it, but he would gladly spend five minutes alone in a room with Van Statten – his own body ached with the tortured that had been inflicted on him, hardly the worst but it was still torture. She pulled the information up on a computer. "That's us, right below the surface. That's the cage, right at the bottom, and that's where the Dalek is."

"This museum of yours..." he began, holding the phone to his chest, sending his heartbeats down the line to Zoe. "Have you got any alien weapons?"

She nodded. "Lots of them, but the trouble is the Dalek's between us and them."

"We've got to keep that thing alive," Van Statten interrupted and anger swelled within the Doctor at the selfishness of Van Statten. It amazed him that a species that could produce people like the Tyler sisters could also produce someone like Van Statten. "We could just seal the entire vault and trap it down there."

"Leaving everyone trapped with it," he snarled. "Zoe and Rose are down there. I won't let that happen. Have you got that?" Van Statten said nothing. The Doctor turned back to Diana. "It's got to go through this area. What's that?"

"Weapons testing."

He hesitated only a moment before giving his next order.

"Give guns to the technicians, the lawyers, anyone, everyone," he ordered. "Only then have you got a chance of killing it." He raised the phone back to his ear. "Zoe, are you still there?"

" _Yes,"_ she replied, voice breathless; it sounded like they were moving again. Her knee was probably hurting her something fierce, and he winced in sympathy. " _You got a plan, Doctor-mine?_ "

"Right now, I just need you two to run, okay?" He said. "Zoe, I'm sorry. I know you're in pain, but you need to run as fast as you can."

" _I understand,_ "she said, and he closed his eyes. She was so brave; then again, they were always brave. " _When this is over, I'm goin' to want to put my feet up for like a week._ "

He smiled to himself.

"When this is over, I'll take you to the Île de Ré in France," he promised her. "You'll love it. Soft white sand, warm sun, plenty of time to read your books and practice your French."

" _That sounds nice,_ " she sighed into the phone. " _Doctor, about Thanatos_ – _"_

"Forget about it," he said quickly. "It's not important."

" _You were an ass,_ " she said, ignoring him. " _But you were also scared. I get that now. I'm not sorry I saved Okana, but I am sorry I yelled at you. It was a shit thing to do._ "

"Stop it," he told her. "You sound like you're saying goodbye."

She laughed down the phone. " _Ignore me then. I reckon it's just the pain. Being tased is the literal worst._ " He heard Rose's panicked voice in the background. " _Got to go, Doctor. Time for runnin' again_."

He listened as they started running again before lowering the phone from his ear. He turned only to be confronted by Van Statten who was sweating under the unforgiving light.

"I thought you were the great expert, Doctor," he had the audacity to accuse. "If you're so impressive, then why not just reason with this Dalek? It must be willing to negotiate. There must be something it needs. Everything needs something."

Van Statten's desperation was tangible in the air.

"What's the nearest town?" The Doctor asked after a moment of silence where he wrestled his anger under control.

"Salt Lake City."

"Population?"

Van Statten frowned. "One million."

"All dead," the Doctor said. "If the Dalek gets out, it'll murder every living creature. That's all it needs."

"But why would it do that?" Van Statten asked, at a complete loss of understanding of the monster he had unleashed upon the world.

Ignorance was often a worse folly than intent, but ignorant intent was by far the worst.

"Because it honestly believes they should die," he said. "Human beings are different and anything different is wrong. It's the ultimate being in racial cleansing and you, Van Statten, you've let it loose! The Dalek's surrounded by a force field. The bullets are melting before they even hit home, but it's not indestructible."

* * *

In the stairwell, Rose lowered Zoe to the ground and clutched at her side, trying to work out the stitch that ran down from beneath her breast to her hip as she breathed heavily. She hadn't run so much in a long time, and her thighs were burning from sprinting up the stairs with her sister's weight on her shoulders. Adam quivered with fright and Zoe's face was white and pinched with pain as she breathed in slowly and deeply, trying to catch her breath and work through the pain. Rose regretted pulling her sister from her bedroom that morning. Maybe if Zoe was still in the TARDIS then they might have had a chance of getting out in one piece. She thought on the Dalek and how it had stared at her across the expanse of the room as it slaughtered everything else.

"It was lookin' at me," Rose said; Zoe tilted her head back to look up at her, brow furrowed.

"Yeah," Adam panted, "it wants to slaughter us."

"I know," she replied sharply. "But it was lookin' right at me."

"So?" He said. "It's just a sort of metal eye thing. It's looking all around."

"I don't know," she shrugged, unnerved. "It's like there's somethin' inside, looking at me, like, like it knows me."

"There is somethin' inside it," Zoe told her. "The Doctor – he said that the metal casin' is like a shield, something protective to cover the creature within."

From behind them, the sound of gunfire stopped.

The silence made them move again.

* * *

"Oh my god," Diana breathed, staring in horror at the screen as the Dalek massacred everyone on the lower levels from the air before lowering itself to the floor. Her fingers trembled over her mouth.

"Perhaps it's time for a new strategy," Van Statten suggested, his voice no longer filled with the smug, self-righteous confidence that had fuelled the disaster. "Maybe we should consider abandoning this place."

Anger snapped within her. "Except there's no power to the helipad. We can't get out."

The Doctor frowned. "You said we could seal the vault."

"It was designed to be a bunker in the event of nuclear war," Van Statten replied. "Steel bulkheads."

Diana shook her head. "There's not enough power, those bulkheads are massive."

"We've got emergency power," he noted. "We can re-route that to the bulkhead doors."

"We'd have to bypass the security code," she said. "That would take a computer genius."

"Good thing you've got me, then," Van Statten said, and they turned to him in surprise.

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "You want to help?"

"I don't want to die, Doctor," he said. "Simple as that, and nobody knows this software better than me."

"Sir!" Diana interrupted, pointing to the computer screen where the Dalek had angled its eye stalk to the security camera with the bodies of the dead littered around it; the fire suppression was sending water cascading down onto it.

" _I shall speak only to the Doctor_ ," The Dalek said, its voice sending shivers of fear down Diana's spine.

A raw fire licked inside his chest.

"You're going to get rusty." The Doctor mocked.

The Dalek ignored his words. " _I fed off the DNA of Rose Tyler. Extrapolating the biomass of a time traveller regenerated me_."

That explained its surge in energy. Trust Rose to touch a Dalek though. He really needed to talk to his companions about sticking their fingers where they weren't wanted.

"What's your next trick?" He asked it.

" _I have been searching for the Daleks_."

"Yeah, I saw." He folded his arms across his chest. "Downloading the internet. What did you find?"

" _I scanned your satellites and radio telescopes_ ," it said. " _There is nothing. Where shall I get my orders now_?"

Satisfaction curled in his chest. "You're just a soldier without commands."

The Dalek considered that for a moment. " _Then I shall follow the Primary Order. The Dalek instinct to destroy, to conquer._ "

"What for?" The Doctor asked, exasperation painting his words. He had never understood why Davros would create such creatures, filling them with endless, needless hate. "What's the point? Don't you see it's all gone? Everything you were, everything you stood for."

" _Then what should I do_?"

If it were possible for a Dalek to sound lost, the Doctor would have felt himself soften in the face of such sad, familiar despair; however, the thought of Gallifrey burning, the children screaming as Arcadia fell and the warm breeze running through the barn on the worst day of his life ensured that any momentary twinge of pity was erased by the fierce hatred that had settled inside of him the day he had woken up in the TARDIS and realised he wasn't dead.

"All right, then," he decided. "If you want orders, follow this one. Kill yourself."

Diana's head turned to look at him.

" _The Daleks must survive_!" Its mechanical voice rose in anger and distress.

"The Daleks have failed!" He snapped. "Why don't you finish the job and make the Daleks extinct. Rid the Universe of your filth. Why don't you just _die_?"

The Dalek fell silent for only a moment. " _You would make a good Dalek_."

The Doctor felt the words like a punch to the chest as the screen turned blank. He thought of Zoe's expression in the Cage – her distraught, terrified face as she saw the real him. He thought of Sarah Jane Smith on Skaro when he could have ended the war before it even began. He thought of Susan and how broken her body had been in the Fields of Serenity; her regeneration energy consumed her again and again as it failed to heal her body and only hastened her end. He remembered the all-encompassing rage he had felt – and still felt – at his beloved granddaughter's death.

"Seal the vault," he ordered, his voice sounding strange to his ears.

"I can leech power off the ground defences, feed it to the bulkheads," Van Statten said, immediately turning to work. "God, it's been years since I had to work this fast."

"Doctor," Diana said, "they're still down there."

"I know," he replied, lifting the phone to his ear again. "Zoe? Are you there? Zoe?"

" _I'm still here, Doctor,_ " Zoe said after a long pause where she fumbled for the phone. " _You got a plan?_ "

"Where are you?" He asked her.

" _Level forty-eight_."

"You've got to keep moving," he told her. "The vault's being sealed off up at level 46."

She let out an exasperated breath and part of him wanted to smile. " _Can't you stop them closin'_?"

"I'm the one who's closing them," he said, hoping and praying that she would understand. Maybe she did. She had told him that they didn't stand around and do nothing; they acted and they did what was right. He hoped that she still believed that now that it was her life in the cross hairs. "I can't wait, and I can't help you. Now for Rassilon's sake, run."

" _Who? Oh, never mind,_ " she said before she relayed his message and urged the others to run, run, _run_ as the Dalek reached level fifty-one.

The Doctor felt frozen. Van Statten pulled him from his thoughts.

"Done it," he said triumphantly. "We've got power to the bulkheads."

"The Dalek's right behind them," Diana said, the panic beginning to show in her voice as she chewed her bottom lip, watching their progress on the screen.

" _We're nearly there,_ " Zoe said, the strain showing in her voice. " _Give us two seconds._ "

"Doctor, I can't sustain the power," Van Statten said over his shoulder. "The whole system is failing. Doctor, you've got to close the bulkheads."

The Doctor hesitated, their faces flashing before his eyes, smiling and laughing and so happy. "I'm sorry."

He hit the enter button on the keyboard.

Down on level forty-six, a klaxon began to sound and the bulkhead in front of the three of them started to lower. They picked up speed. Adam let go of Zoe to roll under the bulkhead as it came down; Zoe stumbled but Rose grabbed hold of her and pushed her as hard as she could, sending her sister flying off her feet and onto her stomach where she slid across the floor. The bulkhead doors closed on her, narrowly missing her foot, but trapping Rose on the other side.

Zoe slapped the ground and screamed. "No!"

The Doctor heard her scream through the phone and panicked jumped in him. "Zoe, where are you? Zoe, did you make it?"

"No!" She screamed again, slamming her hands against the bulkhead, tears on her cheeks as she sobbed. "Rose! Rosie!" She scrambled for her phone and pressed it to her ear. "Open the doors! Doctor, open the doors! Rose is on the other side. Open the doors!"

The Doctor whipped around to look at the computer screen. Rose was pressed against the bulkhead doors, small and terrified but standing tall. The Dalek pointed its gun arm at her.

"Exterminate!" It cried and the cameras shorted out.

Zoe screamed in anguish that came from the depths of her soul, and the Doctor let the phone fall to his side, empty and horrified.

"I killed her," he whispered.

Diana and Van Statten stared at him. Eventually, the other man spoke. "I'm sorry."

"I said I'd protect her," the Doctor said, numb with pain. "She was only here because of me, and you're sorry? I could've killed that Dalek in it's cell but you stopped me."

"It was the prize of my collection!"

"Your collection?" The Doctor spat in disgust, wanting nothing more than to slam his fist into Van Statten again and again until nothing remained. "But was it worth it? Worth all those men's deaths? Worth Rose? Let me tell you something, Van Statten, mankind goes into space to explore, to be part of something greater."

"Exactly!" He exclaimed. "I wanted to touch the stars!"

"You just want to drag the stars down and stick them underground, underneath tons of sand and dirt, and label them," the Doctor said dismissively. "You're about as far from the stars as you can get, and you took her down with you...she was nineteen years old."

* * *

Zoe only left the bulkhead when Adam pulled her away. Grief swirled around her, and she stumbled after him, choking on her sobs. Her heart tattooed Rose's name against her chest. Her sister was dead. There was an empty, gaping wound where her sister lived, and she couldn't breathe it was so painful. She thought about Jackie and her heart shattered anew. How was she going to tell their mother that Rose was dead? How was she going to face Jackie and Mickey? Would there even be a body to take home and bury?

She stumbled along after Adam, no longer recognising the pain in her knee. They eventually passed through a door into the office; Zoe saw the Doctor and she started crying all over again, falling into his chest and letting his arms crush her tightly to him. She gripped at him as she sobbed her pain out of throat, and his hand cradled the back of her head as he murmured soft apologies into the crown of her hair.

She couldn't stop crying.

The Doctor raised his head from a sobbing Zoe to glare at Adam.

"You were quick on your feet," he accused harshly, "leaving Rose behind."

"I'm not the one who sealed the vault!" Adam snapped back, and Zoe's fingers tightened on the back of his jacket, but he carded his fingers through her thick curls and held her against his chest to resist the urge to throttle the man.

"Doctor!" Diana exclaimed, pointing at the screen and the Doctor turned with Zoe in his arms to stare at the screen, not quite believing what he was looking at.

The Dalek was on the screen with a very much alive Rose Tyler next to it. It shouldn't have been possible, but it was.

" _Open the bulkhead or Rose Tyler dies,_ " he Dalek threatened.

Zoe raised her head from his chest, hopeful. The Doctor held her close, relief coursing through him.

"You're alive!" He exclaimed.

" _Can't get rid of me_ ," Rose smiled tremulously up at the screen, and Zoe let out a soft cry of relief, dropping her temple against the Doctor's chest.

 _She wasn't dead._

The Doctor squeezed Zoe tighter against him. "We thought you were dead."

The Dalek tired of the emotional interplay. " _Open the bulkhead_!"

" _Don't do it_!" Rose yelled out from next to it.

" _What use are emotions if you will not save the woman you love_?" The Dalek asked tauntingly, and Zoe tightened her fingers again in the back of the Doctor's jacket, the leather creaking beneath her touch.

"I killed her once," the Doctor said softly, holding onto Zoe as he leaned over and opened the bulkhead doors. "I can't do it again."

The five of them watched as the Dalek and Rose passed through the doors. It would only be a matter of time before it reached the office. Van Statten pushed away from the computer, furious and scared.

"What do we do now, you bleeding heart?" He snapped out of fear that caused beads of sweat to break free of his skin. "What the hell do we do?"

"Kill it when it gets here," Adam said, and Zoe turned her eyes on him, unwilling to move away from the comfort and security of the Doctor's embrace.

"How?" She demanded. "You've seen what it can do. Guns are useless against it."

"And the alien weapons are in the vault," Diana added, standing up, hands shaking lightly at her side until she clenched them into fists to steady herself.

"Only the catalogued ones," Adam said, and there was a silence in the office that verged on almost hopeful.

The Doctor looked steadily at him. "Show me."

Zoe went to move to follow them but the Doctor, whose arms still embraced her, held her still. She looked up at him.

"Stay here."

"Doctor –"

"Your knee is too damaged," he told her firmly but kindly, all his anger at her having faded in the face of the horrible threat in front of them. He gently touched her cheek, wiping the tears from her soft skin with his thumb. "And I want you where I know you're safe."

"That's my sister," she protested; he nodded, gently smoothing his thumb across her cheekbone. It was very calming, and she distantly wondered if he was doing something alien to her to get her to acquiesce. She certainly wouldn't put it past him.

"I'll bring her back to you," he said. "I promise. Safe and sound. But I need you to stay here. I can't worry about both of you at once." She still looked on the verge of protesting. "Please."

She blinked up at him, thrown by his _please_. She gripped the front of his jumper, soft and warm and faintly spicy from his aftershave. "You make sure you both come back to me, okay? Both of you. In one piece."

"Yes, boss," he said, causing a small, faint smile to crease the corners of her mouth. He leaned down and kissed her forehead softly, lingering for a moment before releasing her.

Zoe sat down in an office chair and the release of the weight off of her leg was wonderful. She watched the Doctor leave with through sore eyes. She rubbed at her face, drying the salt tears from her skin. Diana looked like she wanted to say something but eventually she shut her mouth and turned to the computer, watching the progress of Rose and the Dalek up through the building at a slow but steady pace – Zoe hoped the Doctor would be quick enough but, unfortunately, he wasn't.

The doors opened, and Rose entered first: tentative and wary. Zoe wanted to go to her, to reach out and hug her tightly, but her sister quelled her movements her with a look; although her relief at seeing her alive and well was overwhelming. The Dalek rolled into the room just behind Rose and Zoe wanted to run, to flee, and to hide anywhere that wasn't near such a creature.

"Don't move. Don't do anything," Rose ordered. "It's beginning to question itself."

"Van Statten," the Dalek said, backing the man up into a wall. "You tortured me. Why?"

Never had a human looked more terrified than in that moment. All traces of smug superiority had been washed from his fleshy face.

"I wanted to help you. I just – I don't know. I was trying to help," Van Statten babbled his justification through his fear. "I thought if we could get through to you, if we could mend you. I wanted you better. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I swear, I just wanted you to talk!"

"Then hear me talk now," it cried. "Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!"

"No!" Rose cried, jumping forwards. "Don't do it! Don't kill him! You don't have to do this any more. There must be somethin' else, not just killin'. What else is there? What do you want?"

It was obvious that it had never been asked that question before. "I want...freedom."

"Freedom?" Zoe asked through her terror, her heart pulsing in her throat. "Rose, we can't let it out. It'll kill everythin'."

"I – I don't think that's what it means," she said, slowly, carefully, moving towards the Dalek. "When you say freedom, do you mean freedom from this?"

She didn't touch the casing but her hand came very close and ghosted over the shell.

The Dalek sounded mournful. "I want freedom."

"Zoe, it wants freedom from this," Rose said, looking to her sister. "We have to help it."

"It's killed hundreds of people today!" Zoe exclaimed, pressing back into her seat when the eyestalk swung around to her. "Why should we help it?"

"Because it's in pain," she replied, "an' it's what we do."

"This is a bad idea," she said, and Rose smiled slightly.

"Probably," Rose admitted, "but you'll help me?"

Zoe hesitated, torn between her fear, the Doctor's obvious anguish, and Rose's innate goodness. Her sister won out as she always had done. Zoe extended her hand and Rose helped her to her feet. Her eyes glanced over at the computer.

"Come on," she said finally. "There's a room...it might be for the best there."

"Come on," Rose said to the Dalek, voice kind and gentle.

Zoe questioned what they were doing every limping step of the way. They walked into a large, cavernous hallway that was clearly used for the transport of goods. The Dalek angled its gun arm and blasted a hole in the ceiling. Zoe yelped and covered her head with her hands as debris tumbled down, coating her with dust. A shaft of sunlight streamed down through the hole and straight onto its eyepiece.

"You're out. You made it," Rose said to the Dalek before tipping her head back to enjoy the sunshine on her skin. "I never thought I'd feel the sunlight again."

The Dalek watched her. "How does it feel?"

"Have you never felt the sunlight before?" Zoe asked without thinking as a swell of pity for this creature of nightmares rose up within her.

"No."

"Can you – I mean, is there a way –?" She gestured at its protective casing and suddenly, with a hiss, the middle and dome sections eased open to reveal the creature within. It was as the Doctor said, a mutation, less than any being she had ever met, one eye sat within its rotten folds.

It reached out a slow tendril and slipped it into the sunlight, a soft sound emerging from it.

"Get out of the way," a dark voice behind them said, and Zoe jumped, startled. She turned and the Doctor stood behind them, a large gun held in his hands. She didn't think she had ever seen a sight more wrong in her life. Rose stared at him, standing between the Doctor and the Dalek, as though she had never see him before. "Rose, get out of the way now!"

Zoe felt tired. "Doctor."

"No," Rose said, shaking her head. "I won't let you do this."

Frustration whipped across the Doctor's face. "That thing killed hundreds of people!"

"It's not the one pointin' the gun at me," Rose replied, voice cracking as she stared back at him and not liking the man she saw.

"I've got to do this," he said desperately. "I've got to end it. The Daleks destroyed my home, my people. I've got nothing left."

"That's not true," Zoe said softly, moving towards him, certain he wouldn't hurt her. She placed her hand on his arm. "Doctor. You've got the TARDIS. You've got us." He met her eyes, and she reached out to brush the tear from his cheek. "Look at it. Doctor. Look at it."

The Doctor slipped his eyes past her and past Rose to focus on the Dalek who was basking in the sunlight. Confusion flickered across his face.

"What's it doing?"

"It's the sunlight," Rose whispered. "That's all it wants."

He shook his head, tightening his fingers on his gun. "But it can't."

"It couldn't kill Van Statten; it couldn't kill me," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "It's changin'." She wiped her eyes, mascara smudging on her cheeks. "But what about you, Doctor? What the hell are you changin' into?"

The fight drained from the Doctor, and he looked broken: an empty shell of a man. Zoe understood, in that moment, that his joviality and his good-natured grumpiness were all a facade to cover the rivers of pain and grief that coursed through him. Her soul ached for him.

"I couldn't. I wasn't." His body shook. "Oh, girls. They're all dead."

"Why do we survive?" The Dalek asked, and Zoe curled her fingers around the Doctor's biceps, holding him steady, letting him know that she was there.

He shook his head, mouth moving long before sound came out. "I don't know."

"I am the last of the Daleks," the Dalek said mournfully.

"You're not even that," the Doctor said, standing a little straighter, gun falling to the ground with a loud clatter. "Rose did more than regenerate you. You've absorbed her DNA. You're mutating."

"Into what?"

"Something new," he replied. "I'm sorry."

"Isn't that better?" Rose asked, looking between them, confused and emotional.

He shook his head. "Not for a Dalek."

"I can feel so many ideas. So much darkness," the Dalek moaned. "Rose, give me orders. Order me to die."

Horrified, Rose took a step back. "I can't do that."

"This is not life. This is sickness," it argued. "I shall not be like you. Order my destruction! Obey! Obey! Obey!"

The noise of its screams surrounded them, echoing in the hall. Rose trembled, afraid. "Do it."

"Are you frightened, Rose Tyler?"

"Yeah.," she croaked, and Zoe wanted to move forward to take her sister's hand but she was frozen in place, terrified of what was to come.

The Dalek seemed at peace. "So am I. Exterminate."

The Dalek shut its eye, and the protective casing folded itself back into place around the mutation. Rose fell back a few steps, and Zoe reached for her, drawing her in close by the belt of her jeans, arm wrapping around the front of her stomach to hold her. The Dalek rose slowly up into the air, and the large golden balls on its lower body spread out around it, linking together with energy; it hovered there for a moment, trapped in the beam of sunshine, before it imploded. The force of the implosion was caught and contained within the ball shielding before everything was turned to dust that slowly rained down on the ground.

Silence surrounded them.

Rose sniffed and turned so that she could wrap her sister and the Doctor in a hug. The Doctor held onto the two of them, face buried in Rose's hair, and the three of them clung to each other with a fierce desperation. No one wanted to let go but eventually they peeled away from each other. Zoe took Rose's hand and Rose took the Doctor's and the three of them walked back down the hall, leaving the gun behind to be coated in the dust of the last Dalek.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

The Doctor leaned against his TARDIS and soaked in her comforting hum; he let the warm waves of her love and affection wash through his mind and spread out through his aching bones. Just being near her again was beginning to heal the ragged edges of the wound the Dalek had ripped open. Also, the warm, slight weight of Zoe Tyler leaning into his side tucked beneath his arm, made him feel better; she was never one for too much physical affection – a high five here, a quick hug of relief there – but the events of the day had led her to try and climb inside the Doctor. Not that he minded. He appreciated the steadying influence of her body curled against his. He kept one arm around her shoulders whilst eyeing Rose who seemed a little downcast but otherwise none the worse for wear as the Doctor and Zoe had borne the brunt of the physical and mental damage from their trip.

His eyes drank in Rose with her bottle blonde hair and too large jeans. He was in awe of her and her heart that was so large she could be kind and generous to a creature of horror and destruction.

He wasn't entirely sure he was thinking about the Dalek.

"A little piece of home," the Doctor said when he tore his eyes from Rose before she caught him staring again. He patted the blue door of his TARDIS and she hummed in the back of his mind. "Better than nothing."

"Is that the end of it?" Rose asked, piling her hair up onto the top of her head to cool the back of her neck. "The Time War?"

"I'm the only one left," he said, still wishing that he had died in the barn on Gallifrey with the rest of his people. He had never wanted to be the last one standing, no matter what Romana had believed. "I win. How about that?"

Zoe looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest. He was struck by how young she looked leaning into his side, still shoeless and dressed in her comfortable TARDIS clothes.

"The Dalek survived," she said carefully. "Maybe some of your people did too."

"I'd know. In here." He tapped the side of his head. "Feels like there's no one."

Both Zoe and Rose looked inexpressibly sad for him. Rose managed a smile and a force of good humour. "Well then, good thing we're not goin' anywhere. Right, Zo?"

"Absolutely." She smiled up at him before she poked him gently in the stomach. "Besides, I remember _someone_ promisin' me a trip to a beach in France. Somewhere I can rest my leg, which hurts like all hell by the way."

"I bet it does," Rose said as Adam entered the museum, walking towards them. "I'm pretty sure the Doctor said no runnin' on it."

Zoe flipped her sister a rude sign with her fingers, and the Doctor's mouth curved into a small smile watching them – his wonderful humans. Adam reached them, and he wiped the smile off his face.

"We'd better get out," Adam said. "Van Statten's disappeared. They're closing down the base. Goddard says they're going to fill it full of cement like it never existed."

"About time," Rose said with a happy nod at the outcome.

He ran a hand over the back of his head. "I'll have to go back home."

"Better hurry up then," The Doctor said, straightening up and startling a half-asleep Zoe on his chest. He kept an arm around her. "Next flight to Heathrow leaves at fifteen-hundred hours."

Zoe frowned. "How d'you even know that?"

Rose inched closer to the Doctor, ignoring Zoe who recognised the look on her face. "Adam was sayin' that all his life he wanted to see the stars."

The Doctor scowled. "Tell him to go and stand outside, then."

"He's all on his own, Doctor," she said, turning her eyes onto the alien, and he really didn't stand a chance. Not that he ever did with her. From the moment he took her hand and said _run_ he was a goner. "An' he did help."

Still, he fought it.

"He left you down there."

"So did you," Rose said archly, and Zoe pressed her face into the Doctor's shoulder so she could avoid the conversation. She didn't particularly like Adam – not that she really knew him – but he had dived under the bulkhead doors without a backwards glance to her or Rose.

"What're you talking about?" Adam looked between them in confusion. "We've got to leave."

Rose grinned widely, tongue flashing between her teeth. The Doctor grumbled as he unlocked the TARDIS and guided Zoe back inside to the familiarity that was a deeply welcome sight after everything.

"C'mon, Zo," he muttered. "Let's leave these two to it."

"You're a pushover, Doctor," she accused, leaning on him as he helped her up the ramp while Rose invited a bewildered Adam into the TARDIS. "A soft touch, one might say."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, helping her to sit on the jump seat before he started fiddling with the console. "Vortex first, I think. Reckon we could all use some sleep. Then that beach I promised you."

"Sounds great," she replied, closing her eyes on a sigh just as Adam entered the TARDIS.

"Oh my god, it's _bigger on the inside_!"

* * *

It took longer than any of them expected to get Adam to stop freaking out at the inside of the TARDIS as people normally adapted quicker. He finally quietened down only when the Doctor started growling about shoving him out of the door and into the Time Vortex; the sight of which rendered Adam so speechless that he gaped like a fish for many minutes, giving them an opportunity to have a quick discussion over what to do with him. It felt strange to have four people onboard the TARDIS. It had been the three of them for so long that an extra person knocked them off-balance slightly, but the Doctor rolled over any awkwardness with his usual brusque manner.

"Rose, get him settled, would you?" The Doctor said. "I want to fix Zoe's knee."

"Oh, yes, please," Zoe said quickly as the pain was really quite distracting; it throbbed horribly inside her soft cotton trousers.

The Doctor half-carried her to the infirmary where she eagerly climbed up onto the bed and lay down, flinging one arm across her face and letting him push the leg of her trousers up. He carefully removed the brace around it, and she let out a groan at the release of pressure; her eyes whited out for a long moment, and she could only breathe again when her vision swam back to her. Her knee gave a painful, powerful throb, and she bit down on her fist. Her head pulsed and felt lighter than normal.

"I know, I know," the Doctor said soothingly, searching through the drawers with one hand before pressing a hypospray against her thigh. The analgesic worked immediately, winding its way through her pained joint and chasing the pain away. She breathed more easily. "There we go. I'm serious this time. I don't want you on this leg at all, for at least a week."

"You're the one who took us to the museum of horrors, Doctor," she complained tightly, ashy with pain. She wished that the lights were lower; as though hearing her, the TARDIS dimmed them. "I was happy readin' my book."

"You're always happy reading a book," he said, and she smiled slightly, letting him poke and prod her knee, fixing as much of the damage as he could with his sonic screwdriver and the medical equipment in the room. "You know, I could just take you to a hospital in the 89th century. They'd have your knee fixed up in a jiffy."

"An' we'd probably end up starting a revolution or somethin' like that," she replied, feeling light and relaxed with the pain medication in her system. She was filled with the sudden urge to scratch behind his ear. She rested her head on her hands to stop herself. "I'm fine with takin' the slow path for this. Besides, you've a new human to play with now."

The Doctor scowled at her swollen knee that was a clash of reds, purples, blues, and blacks. He sounded petulant and whiny when he spoke. "Why did she invite him?"

"Why d'you say yes?" She asked before making an exaggerated sound of realisation. "Oh, that's right, you're infatuated. Can't say no to her, right?"

"You're very annoying," he said, and she was about to reply when the doors hissed open and Rose stepped inside, wincing at the sight of her sister's knee. They both immediately stopped talking.

"She goin' to be okay?" Rose asked, hopping onto the end of the bed and squeezing one of Zoe's feet.

"If she actually listens to me this time and stays off it, yes." The Doctor groused, and the two sisters exchanged a look over his head. "Where's the boy?"

"In his room," she answered. "Seemed a bit overwhelmed so I told him to get some sleep. You okay, Zo?"

"Never better," Zoe said, looking at her sister. "Why d'you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You pushed me under the door," she said, remembering the feel of Rose's hands on her back and the impact against the ground as she slid under the door. "You saved my life but you could've died."

Rose squeezed her foot. "You're my sister, idiot. What else was I goin' to do?"

She made a sound in her throat. When she spoke, her voice was thick with emotion. "You're so stupid."

"Shut up." Rose smiled before it cut off with a yawn that was so large the Doctor could count her back teeth.

"Bed. Now," he ordered and although she scowled at him, she did as he said but not before kissing her sister's forehead and hugging her. She paused by him and pressed a kiss to the side of his head, grinning at him before she left to get some sleep. Zoe watched him knowingly. "Not a word."

She mimed zipping her mouth shut. He worked on her knee in silence for ten minutes and he thought that she had fallen asleep. However, after running a scan over her body and finding that her abdomen was injured, he carefully lifted up the hem of her T-shirt. She started awake, blinking her eyes open.

"Sorry," he apologised. "I just want to heal your stomach. The taser did some damage."

"Go ahead," she said, sounding wide awake and shifting so that she could pull her T-shirt up her torso, tucking it beneath her breasts. She watched him. "Are you still angry with me?"

The Doctor focused on her abdomen, which had already blossomed into a dark bruise focused around where the taser had pressed into her.

"No. Not any more." He changed the setting on the medical device. "Are you still angry with me?"

She shook her head. "No. Not any more. What Rose did for me...I get it now. What you were feelin' on Thanatos. That terror. The guilt. Can't say I'm happy with your way of approachin' me about it, but I figure we can work on that. We both have a little bit of a temper, apparently."

His mouth twitched. "Apparently."

She watched him work, pleased at the resumption of normal relations between them. "How are you doin'?"

"Just fine."

"Doctor, please." She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "Today was..." she struggled to find the right words. "It was a fuckin' disaster from start to finish, and you bore the brunt of it."

"I'm fine, Zoe," he repeated.

"Physically, maybe," she said. "Although I doubt that, to be honest. I imagine Van Statten wanted to examine you as thoroughly as he couldn't the Dalek." He frowned at her abdomen. He had healed the soreness and was working on the bruises, watching them mottle and fade on her dusky skin. "I'm talkin' about mentally now. _Emotionally._ I've never asked before because it's been none of my business but you've said a few things that made me think, an' then today...you an' the Dalek – Doctor...what happened to you?"

He kept his head lowered over her stomach, so close that she could feel his breath on her skin, and she carefully reached out and touched her fingers to the back of his head. She smoothed her palm over his skull and he breathed out against her, resting his forehead on the soft plains of her stomach. She felt the tremor run through him. She worried that she had overstepped, but after the day they had just had she felt that she needed to know, even if it was just the basics so she had some understanding of him and what they might run into again. He didn't speak for a long time but he eventually raised his head from her stomach.

"I'll tell you," the Doctor said, voice rough and eyes dark. "But not here."

She nodded, her hand still on the back of her head. "Cup of tea?"

"Let me get you a new cane," he said as she had broken hers on the back of Van Statten's head, and she removed her hand from his head.

By the time she managed to sit upright, he had returned from the wardrobe with a multicoloured cane that looked like a rainbow had thrown up on it. She took it from his hands with a murmured thanks and followed him to the kitchen.

It took a few minutes to get settled. He was clearly delaying the conversation that he resigned himself to having by making the tea and unearthing the remains of the carrot cake Rose had made during the two days they hadn't been talking to each other. He set her tea down in front of her and slid a slice of carrot cake across the table. She picked up her fork, hungry after having not eaten all day, and he watched as she methodically devoured her cake.

"More?" He asked when she set her fork down and pushed the plate away.

"No, thank you," she said, picking up her tea and sitting back, her leg propped up on the chair next to her. "If you don't want to tell me..."

"I don't know where to start," he admitted, and she took a sip of her tea to think.

"Would it be easier if I asked you questions?" She asked, and he thought on it for a moment before nodding his head. "Just say pass if you don't want to answer, okay?" Another nod. "Good. Right. What planet are from?"

Pain lanced across his face. "Gallifrey."

 _Gallifrey_. The word sounded like music in her mind. "You were married?"

He seemed slightly surprised at her line of questioning. "Yes."

"What was she like?" Zoe asked because she was deeply curious about the type of woman that would choose to marry the Doctor. "Your wife."

His face was as still as granite before it softened and a gentle, wistful expression appeared there.

 _Oh_ , Zoe thought softly, _he really loved her_.

"She was...everything," he began. "Very smart, much smarter than I was; funny, curious about everything, adventurous, daring, mischievous. I was always straight-laced compared to her."

Zoe laughed. "You?"

A grin teased out from behind his grief. "I was a different man when I was younger. Took myself far too seriously."

"How did you meet?" She asked because this was easy, talking about relationships and good memories, easing him into the darker questions that would wring him out.

"It was an arranged marriage," he explained, and the surprise must have shown on her face because he answered the question she hadn't yet formulated. "Love wasn't really for Time Lords. It was considered a waste of time when procreation was done in other ways." She filed that information away to ask about later. "People were matched base on compatibility. It generated good matches for aeons so few people saw fit to complain about it."

"You clearly liked your match."

His face was open with such love that he was entrancing to look at. "I did. She was...I loved her very much. I still do."

"What was her name?"

"Levokania," the Doctor said, caressing her name with all the love in his hearts; in that moment, Zoe swore to herself that she would stop teasing him about Rose because it was clear that his wife was still held strong in his hearts.

"How –?" She hesitated. "How did she die? Was it the war?"

He shook his head slowly.

"No. She died a very long time ago, long before I left Gallifrey," he said. "There – there was an accident where she worked. She was a TARDIS engineer. The top in her field. Her team were experimenting with merging matrices from old TARDISes into newly born ones in order to extend the information lifespan, like a computer update. Something went wrong. The room exploded. Everything within a 500-mile radius was vaporised." He tightened his fingers around his mug. "It was the worst disaster in the history of Gallifrey. The death toll was devastatingly high."

She was horrified. "Doctor...that's awful. I'm so sorry."

"I didn't believe it at first," he continued, finding it easier to speak now that he had started. "I mean, death like that didn't happen on Gallifrey. Death was very, very rare. Permanent death at least." Another thing to file away for later questioning. "She kissed me on the cheek and went off to work and I never saw her again." He breathed in deeply. "She was only 247. Do you have any idea how young that is for a Time Lord?"

"No," Zoe whispered, "I don't."

"It's equivalent to twenty-four Earth years," he said. "She died before she barely lived. She left me alone with four children who missed their mother and who couldn't understand why their father kept crying."

"Tell me about them," she requested softly. "Your children. Sons? Daughters? Little Time Tots?"

He snorted at that. "Sons and daughters. Two of each. Although not that it mattered. Time Lords have a different idea of gender than you lot. Grandchildren as well, eventually, later."

"You mentioned your granddaughter when I first came onboard," she prodded gently.

His entire face lit up with delight. "Susan."

"That's a very human name."

"It was the name she chose for herself when we arrived on Earth for the first time," the Doctor explained. "Susan Foreman. Her Gallifreyan name was Arkytior, which means rose in my language."

"Why did you two end up travellin' together?" She asked. "Don't get me wrong, I loved my granddad but I'm not sure I'd have wanted to travel through time an' space with him."

"Oh, I was a silly, selfish old man," he sighed with a wistful smile. "I left Gallifrey because I was tired of the responsibility, tired of missing my wife, and Susan had such wanderlust in her eye. I stole her away, stole the TARDIS, and kept running."

"You stole the TARDIS?" She repeated, and the TARDIS's lights flickered overhead with mirth, making the Doctor smile. "Doctor, you rebel."

"Renegade, actually," he corrected. "At least that's what they always called me."

"It fits." She smiled at him over the top of her mug of tea. She decided to take the plunge. "What happened to Gallifrey?"

The change was obvious and immediate. He tensed and tightened and his face twisted.

"It burned," the Doctor said. "The entire planet burned in the last days of the war."

"The Time War?"

"The Last Great Time War," he said. "It was devastating, Zoe. You can't even begin to comprehend it. This war was raging across all of time: two mighty races seeking to destroy each other, dragging innocent planets into the destruction and leaving nothing but death in its wake. Someone had to stop it."

"Someone..." she repeated. "You?"

"Yes," he whispered, voice ragged. "For centuries this war raged in linear time but it echoed across the entirety of creation. I fought in the war, later than I should have because I was scared but eventually I fought: Time Lords _and_ Daleks. The Dalek was right about one thing. I would've made a good Dalek."

"I don't believe that," she said. "You told Van Statten that the only emotion a Dalek has is hate, pure hatred driving them forward. You've got good in you, I know that, I've seen it."

He looked lost and empty, adrift in space. "You wouldn't say that if you knew what I've done."

She leaned forward and took his large hand in her much smaller one. "Then tell me, Doctor. Tell me everythin'."

And so he did.

He told her about how the Time Lords had turned cruel in the dying years of the war. He told her about the horrors that the Daleks had unleashed upon the universe. He told her about holding the body of his youngest son in his arms, having found him dead amongst the rubble of a dead planet, and of how he never knew how his other children died, only that they had. He told her about the awful day Susan died and how her body kept regenerating but the energy itself was what killed her in the end because it couldn't take hold and fix her – her features morphing and twisting until she was barely recognisable as a being.

He told her about how the Time Lords had bought Rassilon back and how his reign of anger and terror had killed many good people, Romana included. He told her about his brother's brutal death at the hands of the Nightmare Child. He spoke of his own horror at seeing civilisations laid to waste because of Dalek hatred and Time Lord arrogance. He described the last days of Gallifrey, the tension in the air, the fear that licked inside them all, and then the day that ended it all: the fall of Arcadia when there Daleks finally broke through the sky trenches and set foot on Gallifrey for the first – and last – time.

"There was so much death," the Doctor said, staring at his hand in Zoe's, focusing on the feel of her life running through her veins to anchor him to his reality and keep him from his nightmares. "Children under rubble, fires burning everywhere. I couldn't take it any more. Something had to be done. The High Council had been locked away for months, working on a solution that was more terrifying than the war itself. The War Council barely had enough resources to last...and so I took the decision into my own hands."

He swallowed hard. "There was a weapon called the Moment. It was the most powerful and most dangerous weapon in all of creation. It had the power to destroy entire planets, entire races, in a single moment. When it worked as it was intended, it had the ability to destroy all living things in the universe."

Zoe was horrified and enraptured.

"I stole it from the Citadel's vaults," he explained, "and I took it to the barn near the children's home I stayed in when my parents were away. It had a consciousness though, a sentience I hadn't expected. It agreed to do what I asked of it but my punishment for committing such a crime was that while everyone else died, I had to live. Live with the knowledge everyday of what I'd done to my people, to my home, to all the children living on Gallifrey that day. I accepted the price and I – I pressed the button."

Tears slipped down Zoe's cheeks. She was unable to speak. Anything she even thought about saying sounded trite and inconsequential in the face of his revelation.

"That's who I am," the Doctor said quietly. "Before, in the cage, you told me that torturing the Dalek wasn't who I am, but you were wrong. It is."

"Stop," she pleaded, squeezing his hand so tightly her knuckles turned white, her voice a hoarse, breathless whisper. "Just stop. Please. For a second."

He fell silent, and she wiped the tears from her face, struggling to breathe. She didn't know what to say and so she didn't say anything. She stood from her chair, swaying unsteadily on her feet, and his shoulders slumped, believing she intended to leave. Instead she took uncertain steps forward, and placed a hand on his shoulder; she bumped his knee out of the way to sit on his lap. It wasn't as awkward as it would have been hours ago. His emotional vulnerability had erased that from their relationship. She wrapped her arms around him and drew his head to her shoulder. His arms hung limply by his side.

"I am so sorry, Doctor," Zoe said honestly, voice thick and hoarse. "So very sorry. I wish I could take this pain away from you, but I can't. I can only give you a shoulder to cry on, so...let it out. I think you need to let it out."

The Doctor made a sound and turned his head slightly, stubble catching on her neck. He took a shuddering breath and his shoulders shook. It was like a rock fall. It started small and then grew and grew until he was breaking into a thousand million pieces in her arms, tears rubbing hotly against her neck, burning into her skin as he gasped silent, heaving sobs, clinging onto her as he mourned the loss of his people and his home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Zoe woke to a heavy weight wrapped around her body. Her room was dark, and she wished there was some light by which to see. The TARDIS heard her thoughts and slowly raised the light level so that she could see her bedroom. Her eyes settled on a pair of heavy dark boots by her bathroom door and a leather jacket placed over the back of her desk chair where her pile of to-read books were stacked neatly; a soft, spicy fragrance washed over her, and she relaxed into the Doctor's tight embrace.

He had been exhausted after crying for hours on her shoulder and, since the chairs in the kitchen weren't comfortable for long-term use, she had guided him to her bedroom for the simple reason that she didn't actually know where his was. She hadn't even been sure if he slept. He had been heartbreakingly easy to manoeuvre through the TARDIS corridors as though he was a small, exhausted, desperately _vulnerable_ child. She had helped him remove his boots and encouraged him out of his jacket that he wore like armour. She had intended to sleep in the armchair in the corner but he had made a sound of protest when she moved away and he caught her wrist, eyes open and pleading, so she had settled down next to him.

It wasn't unlike sleeping next to Rose – although, the Doctor was bigger and heavier than her older sister was. He was asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. At some point during the night, he had wrapped her up against his chest and held her tight to him like a comfort blanket. She was surprised he wasn't already awake. She glanced at her alarm clock, which was fairly useless on the TARDIS but it helped her keep track of the hours she slept; they had been asleep for eight hours. She worked an arm free to rub her eyes and wondered if she should wake him.

She decided to let him sleep, drifting in and out of quiet slumber herself, enjoying the slow wake up that she never got any more. The Doctor was constantly on the go – places to see, people to meet, things to do – that there was never time to just lie down and rest; though, at least now she understood why. With what he had told her of the Time War – the deaths of his children, his wife, his planet, and the haunting death of his granddaughter that would visit Zoe in her nightmares for how awful she imagined it was – she understood why he kept running and why he never stopped.

He was afraid and grieving.

She rested her hand over his on her stomach and closed her eyes. It amazed her how much pain one person could live with and not break. 900 years of time and space, he had once told her, but she was able to do the maths; he had left Gallifrey when he was in his 300s and his children were at the Academy and old enough to accept his departure even if they didn't understand it. She was lying in bed with a creature that was over 1200 years old, and she was only seventeen. She must seem so tiny and insignificant to him; her lifespan similar to that of a mayfly compared to the millenniums that stretched out before him.

What would it be like to live for so long?

An hour or so later, just as Zoe was considering reaching for her book as she really wanted to pick up where she left with Holly Sykes in The Bone Clocks (and she was deeply grateful that the Doctor's library had an extensive collection of Earth literature from all years because the book hadn't been published until 2014), when the Doctor started to wake up. He came out of his sleep slowly, burrowing deeper against Zoe's back, face trying to hide between her shoulder blades, thighs shifting against her.

It was almost cute.

"Zoe?" He murmured against her back, sounding confused and exhausted still.

"Mornin'," she said. He slowly peeled himself away from her, rolling onto his back to blink up at the ceiling. Freed from his imprisoning embrace, she unfurled her own body and stretched her limbs out, her foot tingling as the blood rushed back into it. She shifted so that she was lying on her back as well, shoulders touching. "How d'you sleep?"

He looked drunk as he ran a hand over his face. "Good. Actually, better than good. I can't...I didn't have nightmares."

Pleasure swept through Zoe. "Good. That's really good."

He turned his head to look at her, and it was the same face she had seen for the last few months but there was something different about it now, deeper and more meaningful, as though their conversation the night before had peeled away a layer of armour that had hidden him from her.

"Thank you," he said sincerely.

She smiled softly back at him. "You're welcome."

The Doctor tentatively took her hand, and she let him. They lay there side by side, staring up at her ceiling, hands joined before he suddenly sighed, irritated. She raised her eyebrow.

"I'd forgotten that Rose brought that boy onboard," he said, sounding like himself again just with an added edge of intimacy.

She laughed. "What are you goin' to do with him?"

"Damned if I know," he muttered, irritated before clearing his expression. "I do know that I promised you a trip to France though. How's the knee?"

"Can't feel it," she said cheerfully. "So great."

"You know, there's this lovely resort in the 23rd century," he said. "Pure white beaches, warm blue oceans, fruity cocktails...I think you'll enjoy it."

She smiled bemusedly at him. "You don't really strike me as a resort type."

"I'm not," he admitted. "But I had this friend once, Sarah Jane her name was. She was a bit shaken after her own experience with the Daleks. I thought something more relaxing would do her good, and she decided to spend the next month testing all of the resorts through space and time. She felt that the one in France was in the top five." He frowned, thinking. "I think I still have the list she made somewhere."

Zoe rolled onto her side to face him properly. It felt like she was gossiping with a friend, and she loved it. "She made a list?"

"She was very organised." He nodded. "An investigative journalist by trade, actually."

"Oh, dear," she teased gently, cautious of his still raw emotional state. "The two of you must have got into some scrapes with all that curiosity at play."

He grinned at her, wide and honest, chasing the lingering sadness from his eyes. "We really, _really_ did. One time, we visited Peladon and Sarah Jane managed to get herself taken hostage by the miners who feared enslavement by the Galactic Federation. I was worried sick about her, of course, you humans have a knack for getting into the worst kind of trouble –"

"Oi!" She poked him with her toes.

"She managed to escape but got captured again, this time with me though, so it wasn't all that bad," the Doctor continued, ignoring her cold toes. "Let's just say that you'd like Sarah Jane a great deal. She didn't put up with nonsense or injustice. In fact, I believe she actually lectured the Queen on gender equality before advocating for the miners' rights in front of the planetary leaders."

Zoe was enthralled at hearing about the women who had come before her. "She sounds amazin'."

The Doctor smiled fondly. "She really was."

She thought about asking what had happened to her but decided that they had revisited the past enough for one day. She squeezed his hand before releasing it to roll over onto her other side and sit up, arms stretched out for balance. The Doctor watched her.

"Need a hand?" He offered.

"I think I've got it," she said, grabbing her cane and lifting herself onto her feet. "Knee doesn't feel that bad, actually. Although, I'll be glad when I don't have to hobble any more."

There was a knock on her door, and it opened straight away. Rose stuck her head inside. She saw her sister first and then did a double take at the sight of the Doctor lying on Zoe's bed.

"What're you doin' in here?" She asked.

"Ravishin' me, of course," Zoe said drolly, and the Doctor's ears burned red whilst Rose scrunched her nose up.

"Eugh, images, Zo, gross," Rose replied, entering the room fully. "How's your knee?"

"Better, ta," she said. "How's your new boyfriend?"

It was Rose's turn to blush. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Does he know that?" The Doctor asked archly, and Zoe snorted whilst Rose narrowed her eyes at the pair of them.

She elected to ignore them. "If you two have finished gossipin' like little girls, we goin' to get goin'?"

"What's the rush?" The Doctor asked, and Zoe laughed at that because he was normally the one rushing them. Instead, he rolled languidly out of her bed and stretched his arms above his head, fingertips brushing the ceiling. Rose scowled at him. "Besides, I promised your sister a stay in a resort to heal up her leg."

"Give her a pile of books an' leave her there," Rose said impatiently. "She'll be fine."

The Doctor frowned. "Rose –"

"Actually, that might be a good idea." Zoe stuck her head out of the bathroom. "You said I need to be off my leg for at least a week, right?" He nodded. "Drop me off at the resort with my books an' I'll be in heaven. You guys can do the runnin' an' the savin' things an' I'll sip on fruity cocktails with my books. Come back for me in a week or two."

He looked uncertain. "Are you sure?"

"Doctor, you'd go crazy spendin' the entire week in a resort," she said, and Rose nodded sagely at that. "Particularly since all I'll be doin' is readin'." She smiled at him. "I'm a big girl. I think I can handle a week alone in a resort without you watchin' out for me."

He hesitated for a moment longer but it did make sense: drop her off at the resort; take Rose and Adam somewhere different; then just land a week later in Zoe's timeline to pick her up.

"If you're sure?"

"Just make sure it's a week an' not a year, please," she said before ducking back into her bathroom to do her morning ablutions.

Rose laughed at the expression on his face.

* * *

"Have a nice time!" Rose grinned beneath the warm French sun after the Doctor had helped to check Zoe into the hotel, carrying her bag up to her room, allowing Rose to poke around and marvel at the accommodations whilst Adam hovered uncertainly by the door. Her sister kissed her on the cheek and bounced into the TARDIS. Adam gave her an awkward nod and followed Rose, leaving Zoe and the Doctor facing each other.

"If you have any problems, call me straight away," he said seriously.

She looked pale and young beneath the sun in a pair of short denim shorts, a pair of espadrilles, and a baggy white T-shirt.

"I will," she promised as she leaned on her cane, and she meant it. She didn't intend to play the hero, not when he did it so well. She was along for the food and the new cultures. She didn't like the running for her life parts and would call him the instant something looked suspicious. "Where you goin' to take them?"

"Dunno," he admitted with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Thought I'd put her on random and see what happens."

She smiled. "Well, have fun an' give Adam a chance, all right? I know he's a bit –"

"Smug?"

"Well, yes," she said with a small grin. "But it's a bit terrifyin' learnin' that aliens are real an' time travel is possible."

"You handled it well enough," the Doctor said, remembering their conversation about time travel in her mother's living room.

"I'm pretty sure I was in shock the entire time," Zoe said, "an' I'm not entirely convinced that I'm not goin' to wake up tomorrow an' find out that it was all a really amazin' dream."

He reached out and pinched her. "Ow!"

"Not a dream."

"Oh, get out of here, you git!" She huffed, stamping her cane; he grinned toothily at her, moving to hug her before catching himself.

"Oh, I –"

"I reckon we're definitely huggers now," she told him. "After last night."

His grin softened into a genuine smile, and he wrapped her up in a hug. Her arms wound around his waist, and he held her there for a long moment as he breathed in the scent of her shampoo.

"Alright then," he said, reluctant to let her go. "See you in a week."

"You'd better."

"Stay out of trouble."

"Says the pot," she rolled her eyes, pushing him away from her with a laugh. "Don't have too much fun without me."

"Impossible," he promised, and she watched him step into the TARDIS, closing the door behind him.

Watching the TARDIS dematerialise was an odd sensation. She so rarely saw it happen from the outside and the wind of its departure swept against her; the odd wheezing sound that brought comfort to many wrapped around her until there was nothing left, and she was left standing alone in France in the 23rd century. She suddenly felt incredibly out of her depth but she straightened her shoulders and made her way back to the beautiful hotel she was staying in.

* * *

As it turned out, Zoe quite enjoyed resorts.

There was a lot to be said for relaxing after a terrifying experience. By day three, she felt as soft as warm butter and her knee was feeling significantly better. One of the hotel staff had asked her about it and organised for her to see a specialist who poked and prodded at her before giving her something that would encourage the healing along. On the fourth day, she was able to bend it with more freedom.

She spent her days oscillating between reading – she delved into Evelina by Frances Burney and found it surprisingly funny for something written 300 years before her time – and swimming in the crystal blue ocean. She went snorkelling on the second day and wished that she had bought a camera with her to take pictures to show her mum. She also tried her hand at scuba diving and although she didn't enjoy being so fully submerged in the ocean, it was an interesting experience. She was disappointed that she couldn't try her hand at surfing yet in the artificial wave section but she didn't want to risk damaging her knee.

Whenever she emerged from the water, she would simply collapse onto her sun lounger and let the sun dry the saltwater from her body. The Doctor had given her a quick rundown of the 23rd century before she left and assured her that whilst wearing sun cream was a good idea by the 23rd century Earth had developed technology that prevented the harmful effects of the sun from damaging human skin. By day four, her skin had darkened in colour and freckles erupted across her nose, cheeks, and shoulders.

It was only on day four that she realised she was well and truly not in her time.

She was reclined on her sun lounger in her burnt-orange bikini – the beach actually allowed for nudity but Zoe's 21st century social mores prevented her from stripping off completely – with her book held up over her head in one hand. She was getting frustrated at Sir Clement Willoughby's continued harassment of Evelina when a shadow fell across her. She lowered her book and looked over her sunglasses at the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life.

Her mouth went dry.

"Hello," the man said.

"Hello," Zoe replied, stunned. "Do I know you?"

"Not yet," he answered with a charming smile. Her mind started racing, wondering if this was someone from her future, someone she hadn't met yet. He kept speaking. "But I'm hoping you'd do me the honour of allowing me to know you."

It took a second for his words to click, and she took note of his white speedos. The Doctor had warned her about this, and she understood what was happening.

In the 23rd century, sex for business had been legal for over 100 years and most resorts in that time had their own _companions_ on staff for the pleasure and comfort of their guests. The Doctor told her that so that she was aware of the situation, which she had felt was oddly helpful of him. He often forgot that she and Rose didn't have the same knowledge of the places they went as he did and the things he took for granted were new and confusing to them. She couldn't help but wonder if he remembered her horrified reaction when he gave her the contraceptive injection and that had prompted him to say something.

"I –" she started, completely at a loss for words. People didn't flirt with her. Rose was always the one who attracted the attention. "I'm sorry, I –"

"Forgive me," the man apologised. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I've just noticed that you're here alone and I wondered if you'd like company."

"No, no, it's fine," she hurried, skin heating up with embarrassment. "I just wasn't expectin' – that is –"

He smiled at her, dimples deepening in his cheeks.

 _Fuck,_ she thought _._

"First time visiting the resort?"

"First time at any resort, to be honest," she admitted. "My friend told me that there were – er – companions at resorts but I come from a ti– _place_ where it's not common. You just took me by surprise, that's all."

"Where are you from?"

An innocent question that sent her into a flurry of panic, though she remained calm on the outside, lowering her book over her thundering heart. She couldn't say Earth because she was certain that she couldn't pass as a human in the 23rd century with her lack of general knowledge, and she certainly couldn't mention time travel as humans didn't develop time travel until the 25th century after a few false starts in the centuries preceding it; so, with some quick thinking, she pulled the first name out of her head.

"Gallifrey," Zoe lied. "I'm from Gallifrey."

"I've never heard of it," he admitted. "Is it far from here?"

"The constellation of Kasterborous," she said truthfully before subtly switching tracks. "I'm sort of travellin' the universe with a friend. Seein' new planets, meetin' new people, that sort of thing. Somethings are still new to me."

"Like companions."

She smiled, a touch embarrassed. "Like companions."

"Perhaps if I told you a little about companions, you won't look quite so terrified?" He suggested, and Zoe blushed. She thought about sending him away but he was frightfully attractive and she was beginning to get a little restless from lack of conversation, so she nodded.

It turned out that companions were sex workers but not in the way that prostitutes were in her time. They went through rigorous training at training houses that were officially validated by the Companion's Guild. She was fascinated by his description of the training that they underwent. There was very little focus on sex and more on spirituality, psychology, and biology. A large number of beings who trained at the Guild never actually became companions. Many of them became spiritualists and therapists - people who entered into caring, giving professions. They were all highly educated and their skills seemed reminiscent of courtesans of the past.

Zoe was enraptured by his explanation.

"One of the most important things about a companion is that we choose our own clients," he told her. "No one chooses them for us."

"And how do you choose a client?" She asked, interested, wondering if the Doctor had any books on the Guild in the TARDIS library. "What d'you look for?"

"Everyone's different," he replied, looping his arms around his knees and looking up at her from the sand. "But mainly we look for compatibility of spirit, a connection that goes beyond physical attraction."

Zoe looked at him. "An' why did you approach me?"

His smile was soft and sincere.

"I noticed you when you first arrived," he said. "You were walking down the path and you looked a little sad tired; then you seemed to straighten up, and you pushed through whatever you were feeling with determination. I was curious about who you are. I hoped you might approach the Guild for a companion and when you didn't, I thought to seek you out."

"How...flatterin'," she decided after a moment. "No one's ever – that is – I'm not the type of person people normally pay attention to."

"Then they are utter fools," he said firmly, and her mouth stretched into a smile. "By no means do I wish to presume upon your time, particularly now I know you were unaware of companions, but would you be interested in spending some time with me?"

Zoe observed him. She knew she would have to pay and her 21st century upbringing revolted at that idea but she pushed it away – _when it Rome_.

"Only if you tell me your name first."

It was his turn to smile. "Frelin. My name is Frelin."

"I'm Zoe," she replied, "an' I'd love to spend some time with you."

* * *

When she was younger and she and Rose would whisper about boys (although sometimes Zoe had wanted to whisper about girls with soft skin and pretty eyes instead but kept quiet because she knew what happened to boys who loved boys and girls who loved girls on the estate) under the covers of their shared bed, she imagined that sex would be a special, wonderful thing shared with someone that she loved. A lifetime of watching the men Jackie brought home leave through the front door only to never return and watching Rose try to cover the bruises that Jimmy Stone had left on her body when she came back in the morning robbed Zoe of that hopeful naivety. Sex was a fact of life, it wasn't anything spectacular, and she was happy to avoid it for as long as she could because it seemed to cause more trouble than it was worth.

If she had known the sensations that accompanied sex with something kind and interesting, she might have reconsidered her position on the matter.

Frelin was good - _very good_.

His presence was never overwhelming, his interest in her sincere, and his attentiveness honest. It was clear to her that she could simply enjoy his company over dinner and on the beach, and he would never push for anything further but she was on holiday, in a different time and she thought him incredibly handsome. The fact that she was paying for it made it easier – _cleaner_ – in her mind. She knew that at the end of the week she would be leaving. There were to be no hard feelings or awkward conversations and so, when he dropped her back off at her room, she curled her fingers into his shirt and pulled him forwards to kiss him.

Not her first kiss. Jeanie Cole got that honour. It was certainly her best kiss though.

Frelin was warm and strong – his strength coming from taking assiduous care of his body in the gym rather than the lifestyle of running for your life that Zoe had adopted – and he smelt incredible. The men that Zoe spent the most time around were Mickey and the Doctor. Mickey smelt like engine grease and the cheap soap from the local supermarket that was comforting in the way that old, familiar smells were; the Doctor smelt like his preferred aftershave that was a little spicy layered over the leather of his jacket. Frelin seemed to exude all of her favourite smells – freshly cut grass, old books, her grandmother's chocolate cake, and sunshine. She tipped into him, her body falling forwards against her will, chasing his taste and his scent.

His warm, smooth hands held her up as his tongue slid – hot and wet – into her mouth. She murmured her appreciation low in her throat and tried to pull him closer to her, hand dropping to the door behind her, pressing it open. She guided him inside, never breaking contact with him, enjoying his deep, leisurely kiss too much. He kissed as though he had all the time in the world and nothing else he would rather be doing. He looped an arm around her waist to keep her steady as she walked backwards.

He kicked the door shut behind him and broke from her mouth to gaze warmly at her. She touched his face, more than a little dazed, both at her own brazenness and his abilities as a kisser. She rested her thumb against his cheekbone and stroked his soft skin lightly there. He leaned into the touch. It was satisfying to see him look a little hazy.

"Is this all right?" She asked, her voice deeper than usual.

Warmth blossomed in his deep green eyes, flecked with silver. They were beautiful, just like him. Everything about him was so beautiful.

"Zoe, it's more than all right." He kissed her softly and lingered, his nose brushing against hers. "Please, tell me if you want to stop at any point."

She nodded, touching his soft, dark hair with her fingertips, not entirely sure what was happening was real as she had never been this lucky before. "I want..."

"Yes?" He encouraged her gently, hands burning a pattern on her back through the material of her thin dress that Rose had packed for her: a pretty peach-coloured dress that brushed against her upper thighs.

"I just want," she said, dropping her hand from his face to his shirt. "I don't know how though. I've never..."

"You would entrust this to me?" He asked, and she nodded. He swallowed. "I'm honoured. Thank you."

"Slow?" She asked quietly.

"Slow," he promised, gently tipping her chin to lift his mouth to hers so that they could kiss again.

Frelin let her lead. His quiet acquiescence of power filled her with a slow, gentle confidence that showed itself in the way her fingers touched him, in how she would slip her mouth from his to press her nose to the sensitive skin beneath his neck and breathe in deep, sliding her fingers beneath the hem of his buttoned shirt. He seemed to know exactly how much she could take at any one time; how far he could go before she needed to breathe and and think. She wanted to read more about the Companion's Guild. She wanted to learn all about the organisation that produced people like Frelin and gifted them to the universe.

"Can you...?" She asked breathlessly, enjoying the feeling of his hand at the top of her thigh where no one had touched her before. He pulled back slightly. "Please take your shirt off."

He looked pleased and stepped back from her. The cool rush of air across her overheated body was pleasant, and she sucked in large lungfuls of air as she leaned against the wall, watching his graceful fingers unbutton his shirt. She vaguely wondered if there was some level of physical attractiveness that one had to meet in order to become a companion. Whether there was a criteria for graceful fingers and arching necks and downy eyes. He peeled the shirt from his skin, and the Earth's moonlight bathed him in a silvery glow that made her think of Adonis.

"Do I please you?" He asked with a gentle note of teasing. It was obvious that he pleased her greatly but she could do this – she could do witty repartee with someone.

"I don't know," Zoe replied with an air of faux casualness. "I haven't seen it all yet."

He looked thrilled at her response and the lazy wave of her hand she gave that clearly instructed him to continue disrobing. He stepped out of the pale sarong he had worn to dinner, which had distracted her with the continual flash of muscled thigh she caught when he moved. He had wonderful legs. She wanted to sink her teeth into his thighs, and her breath came a little quicker as feelings she had never experienced before rushed through her. She had read about sexual attraction but had never known the strength of it until that moment. Her few fumbling kisses in the past were nothing compared to the feelings that pounded through her.

The universe seemed to freeze for one moment when he dropped his underwear.

Growing up on the estate, it was impossible to avoid sexual imagery. There had been a profitable trade of porn magazines when she was younger. A year eleven had made a killing by selling them to year sevens and eights who wanted to titter over dirty magazines with their friends. Rose and her friend Shareen had got hold of one once, and Zoe had peeked before Rose snatched it away from her, threatening to tell mum that she had looked. In hindsight, Rose would never have done that because she would have got in trouble as well but Zoe at age nine hadn't known any better. Her thought then was that men's penises were weird and strange looking. The porn she had seen since then did nothing for her, at least not the one with penises.

Faced with her first in-the-flesh penis, Zoe realised that there was a lot that was lost in translation.

Frelin's penis was beautiful, if it could be called that, and it suited him. She pushed away from the wall and walked towards him, her sandals making soft noises against the tiled ground. She felt powerful and beautiful and like every woman she had ever admired as she drank him in, eyes languidly rolling over his body, her fingers reaching out to lightly graze his skin. She watched his abdomen contract at her touch and marvelled at the response he gave to her. She slowly circled him, her mouth watering at the sight of his perfectly formed arse and his sculpted back.

She stepped up behind him, the material of her dress brushing against his skin. He shivered, and she took care not to touch him as she placed her mouth near his ear, her breath warm against his skin.

"You're so beautiful," she murmured into his ear.

He closed his eyes, warmed with her honest words. "Thank you."

"I've never seen a naked man before," she confessed, bringing her hands up to gently touch his arms, brushing down them slowly as she spoke before taking his hands in hers. "I can't imagine you're a fair representation of your gender. You might ruin me for other men."

He let out a breathless laugh, fingers curling with hers. "All men are beautiful in their own way."

"But how many have the inner and outer beauty that you do?" She asked him, honestly curious but not really wanting a response. She kissed his neck and folded their arms around him so that she was hugging him from behind. It was strange but nice to hold someone whilst they were naked. "I don't know what to do next."

"Let me?" Frelin requested, turning his face so he could kiss her. She nodded and released him.

He turned around, entirely unabashed about his nudity. She wondered if that was because of his profession or because of who he was. She suspected more the latter than the former. With reverent hands, he brushed the thin straps from her shoulders and kissed where they lay. He was delicate and considerate as he slowly slipped the dress from her body. The slight breeze across her bare breasts brought her modesty slamming back into her, and she covered them with her arms, feeling awkward and gangly and incredibly unsexy.

"Please don't," Frelin requested, her dress pooling at her feet. "I don't want you to feel as though you have to hide from me."

"I'm sorry –" she started, but he interrupted her.

"Don't be," he said. "Never be sorry."

"It's just – where I'm from..."

"I see," he said, and she believed he truly did understand. "Things are different on Gallifrey, then?"

"Yes," she said. "An' I've never, that is, I've never been undressed 'round someone who wasn't my family before."

"You need not be embarrassed," he promised her. "Whatever worries you might have about your body, I guarantee I won't notice. All I can think is how lucky I am to be in the presence of such beauty."

"I'm not the beautiful one," Zoe said, eyeing him again, and he tipped back his head and laughed, gathering her in his arms, surprising her into dropping her own arms. Her breasts pressed against his chest, skin to skin with him. The sensation was new and exciting.

"You really, truly are," he told her, pressing his mouth to hers again and she lost herself in kissing him until the back of her knees hit the bed.

She sat on the edge of the bed, and he sank to his knees before her. Her fingers held onto the edge of the mattress, no longer covering herself, watching as he freed her legs from her dress and gently slipped her shoes off. She watched, amused, as he folded her dress neatly and straightened her shoes. He caught her watching and smiled. She reached out and stroked his cheek.

"Now seems like a good time to ask what sexual experience you've had in the past." Frelin said conversationally, and she wanted to laugh but she didn't. She must have looked surprised though. "I don't want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable."

"I have had exactly three kisses in my life," Zoe told him, certain she was going to sound pathetic as everyone from the estate was significantly more experienced that she was when they were Zoe's age. "Once when I was twelve from Jeanie Cole because her mates dared her to. Then when I was fourteen from Darren Hodges behind the bike shed. It was like kissin' a fish." Frelin smothered a laugh against her knee. "An' my last one was when I was fifteen from Chinua Oyelowo at my sister's birthday party."

"Was that at least an improvement over Darren Hodges?"

She grimaced. "Not really. His lips were softer but that was about it."

"My poor, beautiful Zoe." Frelin clucked his tongue. "You haven't been treated well at all."

"If it's too much –"she said, filled with a confidence he awoke in her. "I'll tell you, I promise. I just don't know what I like yet. I'm like a blank canvas."

"Not blank, never blank," he told her, rising up along her body and leaning her back into the bed, his body over hers, only her underwear between them. "Just uninformed."

"Teach me then," she requested, hands back on his shoulders. He smiled down at her, kindness and happiness and attraction in his eyes.

"It would be my honour."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

According to a number of physicists, Time was the indefinite continued progression of a sequence of events in – seemingly – irreversible order:

Cause equals effect but never effect equals cause.

Travelling with the Doctor and learning about time travel, Zoe had come to understand that Time was more complex than that. The Doctor had tried to explain it to her once before giving up and declaring that her tiny human brain was incapable of understanding something so complex without at least comprehending it in four dimensions. The information she had gleaned from his aborted attempt at teaching was that, in some cases, effect could proceed cause. In such a situation, if the cause was not enacted and the effect never took place, despite having been witnessed as having taken place, a paradox ensued. Zoe wasn't entirely sure what a paradox was but she was able to make an educated guess.

Therefore, she was only mildly concerned when she found herself in the curious position of not existing.

* * *

Rose was shaking as she followed her dad into the flat that she had grown up in. It was a fine tremor that ran through her body, and her hands trembled. She couldn't take her eyes off of him. Pete Tyler. Her dad. He was shorter than she expected but he was real – _really_ real. His body was warm and full of life and he was talking. She could actually hear his voice with her own ears rather than listening to a recorded version on the old VHS cassettes that Jackie had kept. She nearly tripped over her own feet, trying to keep close to him but shying away, afraid that he would disappear before her eyes.

"Anyway," Pete said with a shake of his head, "never mind all that. Excuse me for a minute, would you? Got to go an' change."

Her eyes watched him leave the living room that was both the same and different as to how she knew it, making his way into the bedroom that Jackie had spent the last eighteen years sleeping in without her husband. She turned back around, conscious of the Doctor behind her and the dark, heavy aura of disapproval that he radiated. She focused her attention on the clutter of things that lined the walls. She moved towards it and touched it. It was familiar to her.

"All the stuff mum kept," Rose said, fingers brushing over it. In her time, it was aged and dusty but in the here and now it was brand new. "His stuff. She kept it all packed away in boxes in the cupboard. She used to show me when she'd had a bit to drink. Here it is, on display. Where it should be. Third prize at the bowlin; first two got to go to Didcot. Health drinks: tonics, Mum used to call them. He made his money selling this Vitex stuff. He had all sorts of jobs. He was so clever. Solar power. Mum said he was goin' to do this. Now he can."

She was aware that she was babbling. She couldn't stop herself. She was nervous and excited and happy beyond anything she could have imagined because he was alive but the Doctor was making her nervous. He hadn't said anything since she had pulled free of his hand and tackled Pete out of the way of the car. He had barely even looked at her. She finally turned to face him and wished she hadn't. He looked disappointed and angry.

"Okay, look I'll tell him you're not my boyfriend."

A muscle in the Doctor's jaw twitched. His voice was low, serious, and brimming with anger.

"When we met," he began, "I said travel with me in space. You said no. Then I said _time machine_."

Rose shook her head because it hadn't been like that. She hadn't even thought of the possibility of seeing her dad until after Adam when the TARDIS was quiet and calm and they were laughing over the brain door and she thought – _dad would have loved this_.

"It wasn't some big plan," she told him. "I just saw it happenin' an' I thought...I can stop it."

The Doctor's jaw moved, and her heart thundered in her chest

"I did it again. I picked another stupid ape." Rose flinched back at the insult. "I should've known. It's not about showing you the universe. It never is. It's about the universe doing something for you."

Annoyance rose up inside of Rose. "So it's okay when you go to other times an' you save people's lives, but not when it's me savin' my dad?"

"I know what I'm doing, you don't." He shot back, not raising his voice and, in a way, that was worse. She wished he would shout at her. She knew how to handle shouting. Jackie was a champion shouter, but this low angry tone was more unsettling. "Two sets of us being there made that a vulnerable point."

"But he's alive!" She protested, unable to understand why he couldn't see how good and wonderful that was.

"My entire planet died! My whole family." He said, stepping forward in his agitation. "Do you think it never occurred to me to go back and save them?"

"But it's not like I've changed history," she protested, wishing that he would understand. He was so smart. He had to understand. "Not much. I mean he's never goin' to be a world leader. He's not goin' to start World War Three or anythin'."

"Rose, there's a man alive in the world who wasn't alive before," the Doctor growled, furious with her. "An ordinary man. That's the most important thing in creation. The whole world's different because he's alive."

"What? Would you rather him dead?" She asked him sharply.

"I'm not saying that," he replied, frustrated beyond all imagining. "But in this situation, it might be for the best."

"Oh, I get it!" She yelled, giving into her temper. "For once, you're not the most important man in my life."

Her words hit him just as hard as she intended. His face stiffened. "You blundering ape. Have you truly given no thought to your sister?"

"My – Zoe?" Rose asked, bewildered by the change of track, and it took her a few seconds to readjust. "What about her?"

"The two of you have different fathers!" He exclaimed. "And if Pete Tyler lives then that means that Zoe Tyler will never exist."

Rose blanched white. Her mouth slipped open in a gape, and she stumbled back.

"No, but, that's not right," she said weakly, panic curling in her chest. "I remember Zoe. Course she still exists. We left her in France."

"You remember because you're a time traveller," he said with dark, heavy eyes. "You're a more complicated event in time and space than most beings. You can remember things that were but are no longer - including the sister that you grew up with."

"But – no." She shook her head again, denying the truth of the matter. "You're lyin'."

"Am I?" He retorted, deeply offended. "Fine. Let's see how you get on without me, then. Give me the key." She stared at him. "The TARDIS key. If I'm so insignificant, if your sister means so little to you and I'm a liar - give it me back."

Rose stared at him, testing his resolve, before she thrust her hand into her pocket. "Fine. All right then, I will."

She pressed it angrily into his hand, and he yanked it from her, clenching his fist around it. He was hurt that she gave it up so easily. Perhaps if he hurried, he could find a way to get Zoe into the TARDIS before the paradox took affect, wiping her from existence. The TARDIS could sustain the paradox of her existence. He was sure of it.

"You've got what you wanted," he said bitterly. "So that's goodbye, then."

"You don't scare me," Rose said even as her voice wavered and betrayed the fact that she really was quite scared. "I know how sad you are. You'll be back in a minute, or you'll hang around outside the TARDIS waitin' for me. An' I'll make you wait a long time!"

Her words followed him as he stormed from the flat. Anger pulsed through him: anger and pain at having chosen wrongly. He had told Adam that he only took the best. How wrong he had been. He hurried down the concrete stairs. He had to hurry. His Time senses were dulled after the War. He was still healing, feeling his way through Time, trying to build up his sensitivity again one day at a time. He couldn't tell if it was too late for Zoe. In the old days, it would have been. The paradox would have taken effect the moment Rose pushed her father out of the way of the car but things moved differently now. The ripples were slower to cause action the closer they were to the Time War.

He just had to hurry.

He would deal with Rose as soon as he got Zoe safely protected within the walls of the TARDIS. His girl would keep her safe whilst he figured out what to do next.

He saw the TARDIS where he had left her, and he picked up the pace, jogging to his bluer than blue box. He thrust Rose's key into the lock and turned it, pushing the doors inwards. His hearts dropped into his stomach.

The TARDIS interior was gone.

" _Shit."_

* * *

Could it really be called non-existence if she was aware of the fact that she didn't exist?

It was an interesting question and one that she turned over in her mind, or rather her consciousness as she wasn't sure she actually had a physical mind any more, floating in total blackness as she was. She thought she was the only person there. At least she hadn't met anyone else but the blackness stretched out all around her for infinity. It could be teaming with people like her who were trapped in a form of non-existence. She knew everything and nothing all at once.

Was she dead?

How had she died?

The last thing she remembered was sleeping next to Frelin. She didn't think she was dead. Dead would feel different. Maybe. She didn't know. That was annoying.

She bobbed in the black ether.

Not existing was boring.

* * *

Rose caught sight of the Doctor sitting by the choir stalls with her baby self in her carry cot next to him. Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He had come running back to her, like she thought he would, only everything was horrible and she didn't know what to do. She knew what she wanted. She wanted her sister. Zoe would keep her calm and lend her strength just by being there, the two of them had always been close. A little double act, Jackie used to call them. When Zoe had started devouring books at a young age, she read the Three Musketeers and would make the three of them pretend to be the Musketeers from the book, sometimes dragging Mickey in to make it four.

Rose wanted that to happen. She didn't just want memories of her sister that only she could remember. She didn't want to look at her mum and for Jackie to have no idea of the second daughter she had had – the daughter who'd help to heal the wounds from Pete's death.

Her head throbbed.

Why couldn't she have both?

Why couldn't she have both her dad and her sister?

She approached the Doctor and got close enough to hear what he was saying to her.

"Now, Rose, you're not going to bring about the end of the world, are you?" He cooed at her baby self. "Are you?"

He reached out and tickled under her chin whilst her older self felt guilt churning inside of her. The Doctor looked up, his expression still unreadable to her.

"Jackie gave her to me to look after," he said, painfully aware of the irony. "How times change."

"I'd better be careful," Rose said, trying and failing for light-hearted normalcy. "I think I just imprinted myself on Mickey like a mother chicken."

Rose reached for herself but the Doctor grabbed her hands.

" _No._ Don't touch the baby," he warned sharply. "You're both the same person. That's a paradox, and we don't want a paradox happening, not with these things outside. Anything new, any disturbance in time makes them stronger. The paradox might let them in."

She pulled back from his grip and felt completely useless. "Can't do anythin' right, can I?"

"Since you ask, no," the Doctor said snidely. "So, don't touch the baby."

She wanted to cry. "I'm not stupid."

"You could've fooled me," he said unkindly, and her bottom lip quivered. He sighed, feeling like a mean old man. "All right, I'm sorry. I wasn't really going to leave you on your own."

"I know," she said quietly, looking away from him so that she could wipe her eyes.

"But between you and me, I haven't got a plan," he admitted. "No idea. No way out."

She tentatively sat next to him. "You'll think of somethin'."

"The entire Earth's been sterilised," he explained with slumped shoulders, fiddling with his screwdriver between his fingers. "This and other places like it are all that's left of the human race. We might hold out for a while but nothing can stop those creatures. They'll get through in the end. The walls aren't that old. And there's nothing I can do to stop them. There used to be laws stopping this kind of thing from happening. My people would have stopped this. But they're all gone. And now I'm going the same way."

"If I'd realised..." Rose started but she wasn't sure what to say. Sorry didn't seem strong enough. Not with everything that was happening.

The Doctor looked at her. "Just tell me you're sorry."

Relief flooded her and her voice was thick with emotion when she spoke. "I am. I'm sorry."

He watched her for a moment longer before he nodded. "Okay then."

She wiped at her face again. "What about – what about Zoe? Is she okay at the resort?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I want to think so but with the TARDIS gone the likelihood is that she's been sterilised as well."

Rose made a pained sound. "Can we save her?"

"Maybe," he said, troubled. "I don't know." She pressed her face into her hands, and he put an arm around her. "Hey, now, don't cry. Zoe's a complicated event in time and space too. Makes her easier to track. I promise. I'll do everything I can to get her back."

 _She's my friend too_ he wanted to say but Rose slipped easily into his arms, and he rested his chin on the top of his head, trying and failing not to worry about their situation.

Rose pulled back in surprise. "Have you got somethin' hot in your pocket?"

He blinked at her. She reached into his inside pocket and pulled out his TARDIS key, only to drop it because it was glowing hot. She shook her hand in pain. He, however, appeared delighted.

"My TARDIS key!" He exclaimed. "It's telling me it's still connected to the TARDIS."

He shrugged off his jacket and bent to pick the key up safely. He grinned at Rose. They had a chance now to emerge from the incident relatively unscathed and pick an oblivious Zoe up from the resort to travel through time and space again. He bounded up to the pulpit and commanded everyone's attention.

"The inside of my ship was thrown out of the wound but we can use this to bring it back," he explained rapidly to the group of people who understood his words but not in the order he delivered them. "And once I've got my ship back, then I can mend everything. Now, I just need a bit of power. Has anybody got a battery?"

The groom picked up the large brick mobile phone. "This one big enough?"

"Fantastic," the Doctor said, jumping back down to take it from his hands. "Just need to do a bit of charging up and then we can bring everyone back."

He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and set to work on charging the battery up whilst the creatures battered hard at the door. He worked with his head down and his hearts beating hopefully in his chest. After a few minutes, the achingly wonderful sound of the TARDIS materialising filled the air; he breathed in deeply, watching his brilliant ship slowly coalesce back into existence around her key that he had set on the floor.

"Right, no one touches that key," the Doctor ordered, fixing the humans with a stern glare. Humans had the horrible propensity to poke and prod things they shouldn't. "Have you got that? Don't touch it. Anyone touches that key, it'll be, well, _zap._ Just leave it be and everything will be fine. We'll get out of here. All of us. Stuart, Sarah you're going to get married, just like I said."

The Doctor glanced out of the window and saw the car that should have killed Pete Tyler begin its loop again. Rose also caught sight of it. "When time gets sorted out..."

"Everybody here forgets what happened," he said. "Time goes back to the way it was."

Rose looked up at him with large brown eyes. "Everythin'?"

He resisted the urge to sigh. He forgot how very young humans were, particularly the ones that travelled with him. Barely adults on their own world, let alone on his. "Rose..."

"Doctor, _please,_ " she pleaded with him softly. "Isn't there anythin' you can do to change – change the thing?"

"You mean my death?" Pete Tyler asked, appearing at his daughter's shoulder. The similarities between them were obvious when they stood side by side. The resemblance to Jackie faded somewhat.

Rose looked agonised. "Dad..."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, and he was sorry. He didn't want to condemn a man to his death, particularly not someone so beloved by Rose but there was no other option.

"No, Doctor, there has to be somethin'!" Rose said, panicked. "Please, anythin'."

"Rose, the only way that Pete could live is for Zoe to never exist," the Doctor explained to her, choosing his words carefully. "You can have one but not both. The paradox would be too large for the TARDIS to maintain."

Pete looked between them. "Who's Zoe?"

"My friend and Rose's sister," he answered when it was clear that Rose couldn't. "Jackie's daughter with a man she met after your death."

"Jackie, she meets someone else?" Pete asked, uncertainly. The Doctor nodded. "Is she happy?"

"Not without you," Rose said thickly, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "Zoe's dad didn't stick around. It's just the three of us. She has your name though. Tyler. Zoe Tyler."

Pete's mouth lifted in a small smile. "Yeah? What's she like?"

"Oh, brilliant." The Doctor replied. "Brave. Funny. Intelligent. Doesn't put up with nonsense."

"Definitely sounds like a Tyler," he said with a weak laugh, rubbing his face. "Well then, that makes this easier. Got to protect my girls, right?"

Every so often, the Doctor was surprised by people. It didn't happen a lot. It was hard for him to experience things that surprised him after so long but Pete Tyler was one of those things. The man was willing to embrace death so that a woman who wasn't his daughter could live. Humans really were remarkable creatures.

Rose choked on a sob. "This is my fault."

Pete shook his head and reached for her. She went into his arms easily. "No, love. I'm your dad. It's my job for it to be my fault."

"Her dad?" Jackie's distinctive voice made the Doctor flinch back with a roll of his eyes. Trust her to break the moment. She stormed over and the Doctor wisely removed himself from slapping distance. "How are you her dad? How old were you, twelve? Oh, that's disgustin'."

"Jacks, listen." Pete said, turning to his wife. "This is Rose."

If anything that made Jackie more furious. "Rose? How sick is that? You give my daughter a second hand name? How many are there? D'you call them all Rose?"

The Doctor bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing out loud. Personal experience told him that Jackie would slap him unconscious. Pete rolled his eyes in exasperation and released Rose. "Oh, for god's sake, _look._ It's the same Rose!"

He was too busy controlling his laughter to recognise the danger until it was too late. Pete scooped baby Rose out of Jackie's arms and put her into Rose's arms before the grown Rose could stop him.

"Rose, no!" He leapt forward and snatched the baby from her arms but it was too late. A screech from above them told him that one of the creatures had appeared in the church. He thrust baby Rose back into Jackie's arms. "Everyone, behind me! I'm the oldest thing in here."

He heard Rose scream his name as the creature screeched and flew down on him. His body stiffened in anticipation and pain ripped through him. He screamed as he was sterilised out of existence.

* * *

There was a familiar presence somewhere near her. She tried to reach out for it but she didn't have arms. She couldn't touch anything. Frustration swelled inside of her, and she wanted to scream out at the limitations of having no limbs. She tried to move but she didn't know how. She wanted to find that familiarity and wrap herself in it. There was no up and there was no down. How long had she been in the blackness? She was getting scared.

The familiar presence found her and touched her.

A feeling of safety washed over her and she calmed. She rolled over in the warm embrace and wrapped herself up in the feeling of friendship and love. She knew who it was: _the Doctor_. He had found her. She slipped through him, feeling playful, and she felt him laugh all around her.

Her confusion lingered on the edge of her mind but knowing the Doctor was there made her feel safe and happy.

She touched him and he hummed, and they floated through the blackness together.

* * *

The sunlight was warm and soft on her skin. Zoe murmured as she began to wake up and shifted a little, feathery kisses on her shoulder keeping her from falling back into sleep. Something was different. She felt strange. She slowly opened her eyes. That was it. She had eyes again. Eyes. Hands. Legs. Arms. She had a body.

Of course she had a body. Why wouldn't she?

"Good morning," Frelin whispered against the warm skin of her neck. She could feel his breath leave a trail of goosebumps behind, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin beneath her ear, his smooth, solid body curled against her back.

Had it been a dream?

Zoe tried to focus but the memories of what had happened to her, whatever it was, were slipping away from her. She had been in complete darkness, floating and alone, until she wasn't. The Doctor had been there, she knew that much. Not his physical form but his consciousness. Everything that made him who he was had been in that blackness with her. She felt disconnected from her body, barely feeling Frelin's attentions.

She stared out of the window, the curtains pulled back, and took in the early morning sunrise and the clear blue ocean that glowed. Whatever had happened to her had been real, she just didn't know what it was.

Frelin kissed her shoulder again. "Are you okay? Zoe?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you are okay," he repeated, a look of concern on his face when she turned to look at him. He gently touched the back of his fingers to her cheek. "You look...not here."

She stared at him, trying to muster some emotion on her face; it took her a moment before there was a rush inside of her and normality slid back in. She blinked, and her face filled with life again. She smiled.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said convincingly. "Sorry. Just...I had a strange dream."

His thumb smoothed over her cheekbone. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Yes, she did, just not with him.

She wanted to talk to the Doctor. He would explain what had happened but she didn't expect him for another two days and so she pushed it from her mind. No sense in worrying over what had already happened. She shook her head and rolled over into his arms, sliding close.

"I definitely don't want to talk," she said instead. "About anythin'."

His concern slid from his face to be replaced by a promising smile. "Well, that I can certainly help with."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

It was with a small feeling of regret that Zoe checked out of the resort on her seventh day. She paid the bill with the credit stick that the Doctor had given her shortly after joining them on the TARDIS; she had asked where he got his money from but he had been vague enough that she realised it probably wasn't entirely legal and the less she knew about it the better she slept. She and Frelin parted shortly after breakfast on the morning of her departure. They had spent two wonderfully amazing days together where he had attempted to teach her how to surf once her knee was no longer in danger of suffering from a relapse; it was soon decided that she really did better on dry land after nearly breaking her nose in an attempt to stand upright on the surfboard.

"Goodbye, my dear Zoe," Frelin had said, tenderly brushing her hair behind her ear. "Thank you for sharing your mind and your body with me."

She blushed. "Thank you...for everythin'."

He had a way of smiling that just opened him up to the world. "I hope we meet again."

"So do I," she said, although the likelihood of that happening was slim; she had quickly learnt that the Doctor didn't really like going places twice – Earth appearing to be the sole exception.

She wondered whether the Doctor would want the itemised bill. She doubted he did taxes, particularly with Gallifrey gone, and he had never cared what she bought before, at least not outside of a passing curiosity at the trinkets she brought back to the TARDIS in her pockets. She hoped he didn't want the bill as her time with Frelin was clearly marked. Not that she was ashamed. She could never be ashamed of something that had made her feel so good and left her feeling confident. She just didn't want to face his inevitable raised eyebrow and the knowledge that she knew that he knew she had had sex.

 _God_.

She did not want to think about the Doctor and sex.

She left the hotel with her bag slung over one shoulder and her now useless cane thrown over the other. The sun was warm on her back as she wound her way out of the grounds to the shaded nook where the Doctor had parted ways with her. She ambled along slowly, wondering how Adam's first trip had gone and considering whether or not she would like grow to like him in time. Perhaps it had been Van Statten's influence that biased Zoe against him. She hoped so. She hoped she would get on with him, because if Rose had taken a shine to him then she would have to as it seemed that her relationship with Mickey was definitely at an end.

Part of her was hoping that the TARDIS wasn't there yet so she would have time to sit down and finish her book – Frelin's presence in her life over the past two days had prevented her from finishing Evelina. Such a disturbance would normally annoy her but she felt more relaxed than she ever remembered being and a low tuneful hum took the place of her irritation instead.

With the tune of _My Darling Clementine_ in her mouth, she turned a corner that was shaded by a copse of tress and walked straight into her leather-clad Doctor.

"Oh!" Zoe said, startled, a smile already spreading across her face. "Doctor."

The Doctor caught her by his arms and looked more relieved than the situation demanded. "Zoe!"

"Hello." She smiled up at him only to be swallowed up in a large, bear-like embrace. Her face mashed into his shoulder, and her nose filled with the smell of leather. She flailed a little before wrapping her arms around him and hugging him back with a laugh. "You missed me then?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," he said, pulling back and holding onto her bare shoulders. His bright eyes flickered across her face and the lines around them were tight with worry. "Are you okay?"

"I'm great. Knee's all fixed up, just like you promised," she replied, peering up at him curiously. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Fine, yes, never better," he said. He was an absolutely awful liar. "Good holiday?"

"Wonderful," she said honestly, letting him take her bag because he groused like a petulant child if she stopped him. "We definitely need to up the ratin' on Sarah Jane's list because it was amazing."

"We can do that," he said, smiling at her casual mention of Sarah Jane, finding it didn't hurt to be reminded of his old friend. In fact, it made him feel grounded and normal. At least as normal as he ever felt. "You look fantastic."

She blushed and toyed with the hairband around her wrist, a nervous tick that he picked up on.

"Thanks." She smiled. "I made use of the spa. I had the most incredible massage. Highly recommend."

"You do anything fun?" He asked her. "Or did you spend your whole time reading?"

"I went snorkellin', which I loved," she told him, ignoring his dig about her reading habits with a lifetime of practised ease. "An' scuba diving where I discovered that I apparently have a fear of being submerged in deep water. An' I also tried surfin', which I should not under any circumstances do again." She leaned towards him with wide eyes. "Nearly broke my nose."

"Ah, well." He coughed to hide his laughter. "At least you tried it."

"Did I miss any great adventures?" She asked him, falling into step with him, absently twirling her can.

"Nothing too exciting," the Doctor replied. "Although, Boy Wonder's not with us any more."

Zoe groaned, and she slapped his arm with the back of her hand. "What did you do?"

"Oi!" He protested. "What makes you think it was me?"

"The pleasure of knowin' you?" She replied, and he scowled at her. He had a face made for scowling, she thought; it was lovely. "Go on then, tell me everythin'."

And he did.

The story of Adam Mitchell's one and only foray into space lasted the ten-minute walk back to where the TARDIS was waiting for them. It was a good story full of mystery and wrongdoing – the type of thing the Doctor loved – as well as proof of humans' ability to take a good situation and turn it to their personal advantage despite the dangers. She knew she shouldn't laugh but the idea of a brain door was a funny one; she bumped shoulders with the Doctor and forgot all about Adam when she saw the TARDIS.

The sight of the fantastic blue box made her feel warm all over.

"Oh, I've missed you," Zoe said, bounding forward to place her hands against the blue surface, feeling the TARDIS hum beneath her fingers in welcome.

"Careful," the Doctor warned, voice deep and amused as he unlocked the door and opened it, the familiar sounds of the interior reaching her ears. "A man could get jealous."

"It's like coming home," she said, beaming up at him; he blinked in the face of her happiness, letting her slip past him into the console room. He set her bag down by the controls. "Where's Rose? Figured she'd be here to welcome me back."

"Ah," the Doctor said, uncomfortable. He shifted his weight between his feet. "Something happened."

Panicked flared within Zoe with the strength of a supernova, and she turned white beneath her tan. "Oh my god."

"No, no! No, no, no," he quickly said, reaching for her but stopping short of touching her. "Nothing like that, she's fine. I promise, she's fine. She's in her room."

She slumped back against the jump seat, hand pressed to her chest. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, Doctor. Don't do that!"

"Sorry. Sorry," he apologised, shamefaced. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"God." She rubbed at her chest and frowned at him. "Somethin' happened?"

"Yes."

"It wouldn't have anythin' to do with me not existing for a while there, does it?" She asked, and he looked so surprised that the urge to laugh chased away the lingering panic his words had whipped up inside of her.

"You remember that?"

"It was the strangest feeling," she confessed, letting him scan her with his ever-versatile sonic screwdriver. "I was sleepin' an' then I was surrounded by this blackness. I didn't have a body. I didn't have anythin'. I knew who I was – or at least I think I did – an' I sort of existed while not existin', if that makes sense. You were there towards the end. I thought it might have been a dream but I'm guessin' it wasn't."

"No, it wasn't," he said, pulling back his screwdriver and checking the readings a frown that furrowed deep on his forehead and between his eyes. "You're physically fine."

"Good," she said. "Now, explain please."

The Doctor sighed and pocketed his screwdriver before setting about explaining as best he could. Zoe listened, leaning back against the jump seat, her arms folded across her chest and her eyes fixed on his face. They didn't move from his face the entire time he relayed the disaster of his and Rose's trip to 1987 to see Pete Tyler and his own stupid mistakes in letting Rose watch her father's death again. He explained the paradox to her and his own disappearance from existence to join her in the blackness before Pete Tyler had restored the correct timeline with his death and how Rose had been the one to stay with him as he died.

"And she hasn't left her room since we got back," the Doctor concluded, hands stuffed in his pockets to avoid ringing them helplessly in front of him. "She said she was sorry again and then disappeared. I know she's crying, but I reckon I'm the last person she wants to see right now."

Zoe was silent for a long time – long enough that the Doctor worried she had frozen in time.

"This is definitely a little sister job," she finally said on the end of a heavy sigh. "Not an idiot alien job."

"Hey!" He protested, though not as strenuously as he might have done under other circumstances.

"You've spent a long time around humans, travellin' with them an' everythin'," she pointed out, pushing away from the jump seat. "You must have known from the off that it was a horrible idea, but you did it anyway. Ergo, idiot." He looked down and scuffed his shoes against the grating. "I'll go to Rose. You can, I don't know, tinker with the TARDIS or somethin' – whatever it is you do when Rose an' I sleep."

She patted him on the arm and left the room, leaving behind a smell of fresh air and the sea.

* * *

Inside her pink and purple bedroom, Rose sat huddled in the corner of her bed, her blanket wrapped around her shoulders, tears coursing silently down her face as she sorted through the few photographs that she had aboard the TARDIS of Pete Tyler. They held a different meaning for her now that she knew what his voice sounded like in her ears, what he smelt like when he folded her into his chest, and the way that a small tuft of hair on the back of his head stuck up no matter what he used to grease it down. He was real to her now in a way he hadn't been before: a real living, breathing person who had been dead for eighteen years but she was only just now able to mourn.

Her door cracked open. She tensed up, quickly wiping her face, terrified that it was the Doctor and he had come to tell her he was taking her home after all. Instead, the tall, slim form of her sister slipped inside.

Seeing Zoe after what she had been through, after facing the possibility of only ever having a sister in her memories, sent Rose into fresh waves of tears. Her sobs shook her body and heaved her chest painfully. Zoe's mouth open in horrified surprise, and she hurried across the room, scrambling onto the bed and into Rose's outstretched arms, whose fingers grasped and clawed for her. Rose wrapped her sister tightly up into her arms and pressed her face into her sun-warmed hair, dampening it with her salty tears, as Zoe's body weight bore her back onto her bed.

She wasn't sure how long she cried for, but she ended up with her torso curled up in Zoe's lap, her sister running her fingers through her hair. Eventually her tears stopped, and she lay exhausted, fist curled against Zoe's warm thigh. When she spoke, her voice rasped and her words made no sense. Zoe's fingers stilled in her hair.

"Hold on," she said, carefully shifting Rose off of her to fetch a glass of water from the bathroom. She returned and helped her sister sit up, brushing the hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear, before holding the water to her lips. "Drink up. You need it."

Rose gulped the water down. It helped her feel better and more clear headed. Zoe set the empty glass down on the bedside table before pulling her sister down with her and tugging the covers over them so that they were cocooned beneath it in a warm, dark cave. Their legs tangled with the each others, and Zoe pulled her sister close to her.

"What was he like?" She asked quietly, once they were settled, and Rose's mouth trembled with fresh emotion.

She was able to keep it at bay for the time being.

"He was amazin', Zo," Rose said, her voice thick with emotion and hoarse from her sobs. "He was funny an' completely daft but really kind, y'know? He an' mum loved each other, but it wasn't easy. Not like mum said it was. They had problems an' they were fightin' lots but they loved each other right at the end. It was obvious."

"An' he loved you," Zoe said softly. Rose nodded, sniffing as she wiped her nose on her pillowcase. "Oh, Rosie, I'm so sorry."

"I nearly killed you," she said pathetically into Zoe's shoulder. "When I saved him. I didn't think that it would mean you were never born."

"You didn't do it on purpose," Zoe replied, holding her tighter. "An' I'm okay. Better than okay actually."

Rose pressed her forehead into her sister's shoulder.

"He knew about you," she said on a trembling wave. "The Doctor told him about you...said it was why he had to die because you needed to live."

 _That_ was news to Zoe. The Doctor hadn't mentioned that.

"Dad, he – he asked about you," she continued. "Called you his girl too, because you're mum's daughter."

 _Oh_ Zoe thought, and she blinked at the tears that burned hotly in her eyes. Her own father wanted nothing to do with her but a man she had never met who had to die so she could live had embraced her without even meeting her. She bowed her face into Rose's hair.

"I miss him," Rose whispered, her voice cracking; Zoe just hugged her tighter. "I really fuckin' miss him, Zo."

* * *

The Doctor was brooding over a cup of tea and a thick book in the library when Zoe emerged from Rose's room five hours later. He looked up at the sound of her bare feet padding lightly against the TARDIS floor, the hem of her white sundress brushing against her upper thighs, limbs long and still ever-so-slightly gangly – human development didn't really even out until about twenty to twenty-five, although they started to take shape quite young. She graced him with a smile that only just touched her eyes, the rewards of her week-long holiday almost completely erased from comforting her sister because of his mistake.

She sat down in the chair opposite him and sank into it so deeply that her feet were lifted from the ground, and she let out a little _oof_ of surprise _._ As she wriggled around to try and get comfortable and less trapped by the thick cushions, he noticed that she had got a pedicure at the resort – unless her toenails were natural that smooth and shiny. Perhaps they were. He had never really paid a lot of attention to human feet before. Maybe that was an oversight on his part. She gave a soft little sigh as she relaxed back into her chair, eyes closing briefly; he snapped his eyes up from her toes. He was filled with the urge to make her a cup of tea. He was on the verge of offering when her eyes reopened.

"You two have had a rough couple of days." she noted, folding her slender hands across her stomach, propping her elbows up on the armrests.

She looked tiny and young swallowed up by the chair, legs stretched out in front of her, like a child playing dress up in adult clothes and on adult furniture. His eyes lingered on her knee. It did look much better. He wanted to run a quick scan but doubted she would be amenable to spending time in the sickbay so soon after coming back. She stretched her toes out and waggled them.

The Doctor grunted, turning his eyes back to his book so that he didn't have to look her in the eye like the coward he was. "Should've known better."

"Probably," she said lightly, and he glanced at her but she wasn't looking at him. Her head was tilted back to look up at the high vaulted ceiling.

Her silence unnerved him. Where Rose tended to fill the silence with chatter, Zoe tended to let the silence run its course unless she was truly interested in something. He supposed growing up with Jackie and Rose silence had been her natural bedfellow, unable as she was to get a word in edgewise.

"How's Rose?" He asked when he could bear the silence no longer.

"Sleeping... _finally_ ," she answered. "She cried herself to sleep in the end. Reckon she's finally mournin' her dad." She scratched an itch on her nose. "She thinks you're goin' to take her home."

He flushed with shame. "I'm not."

"I know that," she said, finally looking at him. "But she could do with hearin' it from you herself."

"Right, yes," he agreed, and he cleared his throat to ease his discomfort. "I can do that."

"Good," she said, and that seemed to be the end of that because she turned her attention to the book in his lap. "What are you readin'?"

"Oh, I – er – I don't know," he said, flipping to look at the cover, ignoring her knowing smile. "A History of the Jitani Civil Wars."

"Wars?" She repeated. "Plural?"

"They had a really bad thousand years," he explained; she raised her eyebrows as if to say _fair enough_. He set the book to one side. "Tell me about your holiday."

"I've already told you about it," she replied, faintly surprised. "Snorkellin', scuba divin', an' surfin'. An' a little bit of readin', of course."

"Didn't meet anyone?" He asked, intending it to be a normal, casual question but her reaction piqued his interest. She blushed from head to toe. He didn't even know that it was possible for legs to blush but hers did. He felt a grin stretch across his face. "Zoe Tyler! Who did you meet?"

"You know what?" She managed after stuttering for a long moment. "That's absolutely none of your business." He raised an eyebrow, mouth curving upwards. She pointed a finger at him. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Smilin'."

"I like smiling."

"Yeah, well, you're smilin' like you know somethin'," she accused, and his amusement deepened. "Which you don't, because there's nothin' to know. Got it? _Nothin'."_

"Right you are," the Doctor replied, trying his hardest not to laugh. _Good for her,_ he thought to himself. "Although, if there was something to know, there'd be no need to be ashamed of it."

"I know that," she said quickly, narrowing her eyes at him. "But if there was somethin' to know, I wouldn't want to tell anyone because it would be private."

"Hypothetically speaking, of course."

"Of course."

They eyed each other, and the Doctor's mouth twitched. She threw a cushion at his head. He caught it with a laugh and tossed the cushion onto the floor, stretching out his arms, letting the subject drop.

"Do you have plans, Zoe Tyler?" He asked her.

"Vague, distant, future plans," she replied, her skin still hot but slowly cooling down. She couldn't quite meet his eyes though. "But nothin' immediate. Why?"

"Because there's a lovely little restaurant on Bixor with the best mussels that you'll ever taste," he informed her, feeling in a significantly better mood now that she was back onboard; Adam was long, long gone and the promise of things being set right between him and Rose now lay before him. "Well, I say mussels. They're really called _hara_ on Bixor but they're similar to Earth mussels. What d'you say?"

"Sounds lovely," Zoe said with a smile, having begun to feel a little peckish as she had only had a light breakfast that morning for Frelin had managed to distract her quite thoroughly. She reached out for his hand to help her stand after a fruitless struggle to free herself from the armchair, and he grasped her hand and pulled her free.

She stumbled a little, and he caught her.

"Careful," He said, smiling down at her. "Don't want to go damaging that knee again."

She prodded him in the ribs with her sharp fingers and reclaimed her hand.

"You know, I think this is the first thing you an' me are going to do together on our own," she told him conversationally. "Except blowin' up Downin' Street, of course."

"Nah." He shook his head as he followed her out of the library. "That can't be right."

"Can too."

"What about the diner on Route 66?" The Doctor asked, watching the back of her head as she confidently navigated her way through the TARDIS corridors.

"Which one?" She replied, glancing back at him. "The one in America or the one in space?"

"Both."

"Doesn't matter," she said cheekily. "We were with Rose both times but she got sick at the one in space an' was throwin' up in the bathroom for an hour before we noticed."

"Oh, yeah," he said, remembering with a grimace. His nose scrunched at the memory. "I didn't know humans could vomit so much."

"We're full of surprises," she said, smiling over her shoulder at him, the console room just up ahead.

"You are that," he replied. "Well then, I'll have to make this a good one."

"They're all good ones," she said, reaching for the shoes that she had left on the grating whilst listening to him tell her about 1987. She slid them back onto her feet. "What happened the last time you were on Bixor?"

He input the coordinates and flicked a few buttons and pulled a few levers, pushing the TARDIS through the Time Vortex to its new location. He peered around the time rotor and plastered an offended look on his face.

"What makes you think something happened?"

"Doctor," she sighed with a roll of her eyes, "please."

"Oh, fine." He grinned at her tone. "It's a funny story actually. It all started with a pair of badly made trousers, and it ended with the destruction of the planet. Not that it was my fault, of course, but..."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Love you too, Mum," Zoe said over the phone that she was tucked between her ear and shoulder whilst she sorted her laundry in her bedroom. "Speak to you next week. Bye."

She dropped the phone from her shoulder to her hand, catching it neatly to hang up on her normal weekly conversation with her mother who seemed to have settled nicely into life without her two daughters constantly underfoot. Her exam results still hadn't turned up yet but she was expecting them soon and knew that she would have to persuade the Doctor to take her back to Earth so that she could collect them; although, he was a giant nerd so maybe there wouldn't have to be a lot of persuasion required. She hadn't raised it with him yet as she knew he would offer to jump ahead to the day in question again as he had offered not long after she'd come onboard the TARDIS but she was happy to wait, even if she was nervous about what her results would actually be.

She had plenty to distract herself with in the meantime.

Or at least she used to.

She had been back from France for three days and they hadn't gone anywhere new. The Doctor kept the TARDIS turning in the Time Vortex, and Zoe understood that her sister needed time to recover from 1987. She didn't want to rush Rose through her grief that would occasionally grip her and leave her looking so sad and pathetic that it made the Doctor look sad and pathetic in turn. It was just that she was going stir crazy. After their lunch on Bixor, Zoe had more or less been left to her own devices whilst the Doctor and Rose set about repairing their relationship with copious games of scrabble; back and forth banter; and films that they watched snuggled up on the sofa.

Normally she would have enjoyed the downtime but as she had just come off a week of it, she was growing restless. She had finished Evelina, started and finished another book – an introduction to life in space for beginners by an astronaut in her immediate future called Tim Peake. It had actually been a useful book, answering some of her basic questions that the Doctor hated answering. She considered another book but felt too fidgety for that. She thought about exploring the TARDIS some more but her feet ached for new worlds and so she made up her mind.

Putting the last of her laundry away and straightening her room, she changed into suitable clothing, grabbed her notebook, and left in search of the Doctor. He was in the media room, Rose's feet propped up in his lap, and the two of them were mocking an action film from the 27th century.

She sat down right in front of them on the coffee table.

"Hello," the Doctor said, blinking at her and moving to pause the film. The noise of an explosion froze behind her. "Everything alright?"

"I want to go somewhere new," Zoe said before realising that she sounded a ruder than she would have liked; she deliberately softened her tone. "Please."

"Okay," he agreed amenably, instantly raising her suspicious. "I thought you might be getting a little antsy. You haven't been in the library much."

"I've just spent a week relaxin'," she pointed out before looking to Rose. "You up for it?"

"Sounds like fun," Rose nodded, digging her spoon into her ice cream and sticking it into her mouth. She spoke around it. "Where d'you wanna go?"

Glad that that was her answer, Zoe closed her eyes and flicked through her notebook that had become more and more filled with new ideas and new places the more she learnt about the universe and from the throwaway comments the Doctor made when he was talking nonsense. She stopped with her fingers on a page and looked down.

"Diamond trees," she said decidedly. "I want diamond trees."

The Doctor stretched his long legs out and gave Rose's foot a squeeze. She swung them off him and put the lid back on her ice cream.

"Hmm. Diamond trees, eh?" He said thoughtfully as he stretched, his jumper rising up and revealing a pale stomach with dark hair clustered on the skin. "Nothing off the top of my head but give me five minutes and a banana and I'll find you your diamond trees, Zoe Tyler."

She let out a small cheer and crossed her fingers hoping that a place with diamond trees existed.

Fortunately for her such a place did exist.

"Come on, come on, time's a wasting!" The Doctor called to his human companions, and he opened the door only to have Zoe dart out beneath his arm and run into the fresh air with alien ground beneath her feet.

She bounced up and down delightedly before freezing and gaping in amazement. "Trees!"

What had caught her eyes were huge, beautiful trees that swept high over their heads and cast them in glittering, colourful shadows for, instead of leaves on the trees, the branches bore jewels of such varying colour that it overwhelmed the senses. She just stood there, mouth agape, swaying on the spot as she stared up at them. The Doctor watched her face and drank in her awe and delight and felt warm all the way through because of it. Rose's hand took his as she stepped out of the TARDIS only to pull up short with a breathless _oh_.

A perfect example of why he chose to travel with other people.

Seeing the universe through their eyes reminded him of the wonders of it all rather than the horrors.

He had brought them to the planet of Tolandra. It was one of the universe's most popular tourist destinations because of its very distinctive jewelled fauna. It was also the wealthiest planet ever to exist through all of time and space due to the fact that the most exquisite jewels simply grew from trees and flowers and were often left to simply fall to the ground. As such, the ground beneath their feet was paved with jewels. Buildings glittered in the sun; multi-coloured lights burst all around them as they walked demanding the need for sunglasses. It was one of the most beautiful places they had ever been.

Unfortunately for them all, the Doctor's poor driving meant that he landed them in the tumultuous years where Tolandra was fighting back against off-world capitalism – intergalactic companies were trying to mine Tolandra dry and once the inhabitants had realised the goldmine that was surrounding them and how they had been taken advantage of, they began to fight back.

 _Violently._

"Oh, dear," the Doctor said, his ebullience draining from him when he caught sight of something ahead, his hand tightening around Rose's.

It was an honest mistake, although he doubted Zoe would see it that way. She had unreasonably high expectations of his driving abilities for someone who didn't even know how to drive an Earth car.

"Oh, dear?" Zoe repeated, appearing at his side, arms folded across her chest. He startled at her sudden appearance. Last thing he saw, she had been bending over some flowers, lightly touching the jewelled petals with her fingertips. She could give a man a hearts attack. "What do you mean _oh, dear_?"

"I appear to have made a slight miscalculation," he admitted, and Rose placed her hand over her mouth to stop from laughing at the expression on her sister's face.

He looked anywhere but at Zoe's face. It was impossible not to catch a glimpse of it from the corner of his eye though. She did not look impressed or even surprised.

"Oh, quelle fuckin' surprise, Doctor," she said with a roll of her eyes. He felt like he was being chastised by his instructors after failing his test again for a fifth time. "Honestly, the day you don't make a miscalculation is the day I'll be surprised."

He scowled at her.

 _You sound like my father_ he wanted to say.

Instead he just shot her a filthy look that didn't affect her at all, immune as she was to his displeasure after his night of revelation following their encounter with the last Dalek. He didn't mind. At least not much anyway. He groused and grumbled but he liked the fact that she continued to treat him normally even after he had split himself open in front of her and cried his tears on her body. Rose's laughter burst through her fingers, and he whirled around, betrayal painted across his face. _Et tu, Brutus?_ She tried hard to contain her laughter but it spilled through her fingers like water. He was long since resigned to companions who didn't take him seriously.

Rose quickly smothered her amusement, coughing into her fist as though that would fool him. Still grinning, she squeezed the hand she held within hers.

"Go on then, what's wrong with when we are?" She asked, laughter chasing her words. "It seems fine to me."

The Doctor pointed their joined hands at a sign painted on a jewelled wall ahead of them. The painted emblem cast a multi-coloured shadow on the ground.

"That sign represents Tolandran Independence," he said.

"Hardly a bad thing, right?" Zoe asked, moving ahead a little to examine the painted symbol closer, her fingers reaching out to touch it because she was insatiably curious and didn't seem to understand the command _don't wander off_ despite her intelligence. "Unless they're like the BNP in which case definitely a bad thing."

"Nah, they're an alright bunch, actually," he said, striding up to stand near her, Rose following easily. "They're fighting for Tolandran independence against intergalactic capitalism. You know, the normal." They both grinned at him and looked more alike than ever. "Big companies have been coming to Tolandra for decades and have been taking the jewels without any care for the planet and its people. The Tolandrans don't like that."

"Good for them," Rose said. "Why's this a bad thing then?"

"Not a bad thing," he corrected himself, "just potentially not a fantastic thing."

Zoe looked over her shoulder at him. It was honestly like seeing the ghost of his father peering out from her face with the anticipation that he was about to say something that would make her sigh and shake her head.

It did make him miss the old man.

"How so?" She asked warily.

"At this point in their history, they're not overly fond of off-worlders," the Doctor explained, and _there_ was that expression he had been trying to avoid. "And depending on the year –" he stuck his finger in his mouth to moisten it before holding it into the cool breeze. "Ah, yes, 4138, by your calendar. Not a great year. We should probably get back to the TARDIS and try again."

"What's wrong with 4138?" Rose asked, losing all sense of direction for a second as she was forced to turn around due to the Doctor's grip on her hand. She lost sight of Zoe before her sister reappeared.

"Nothing really, great wine, good crops," he said. Zoe coughed pointedly. "Just the slight problem of arresting all off-worlders in surprise purges. Many disappear never to be heard from again."

" _Purges,"_ Zoe repeated dryly, falling into step and straightening her jacket. It was autumn on Tolandra and the breeze had a small bite to it that had made both her and Rose duck back into the TARDIS for jackets before allowing the Doctor to take them exploring. "That's an evocative word. An' not a word I really want to hear in this context, if I'm honest."

"Honestly, you'll probably be fine." The Doctor said, giving her the once over. "You look Tolandran. Now me and Rose? We're going to stand out."

Rose looked surprised. "How?"

"We're white, Zoe's not," he said; Zoe looked surprised and delighted at that.

"Score one for people of colour," she said, pumping her fist that was encased in a pair of grey fingerless gloves. "I was beginnin' to think we'd never get a leg up."

"Oh, hush." He smiled fondly. "You humans and your obsession with skin colour. Honestly. Racism among you lot dies out pretty quickly when you all get into space and learn to hate other species."

"That's cheerful, thanks, Doctor," she replied with a crooked grin that pulled at the corner of her mouth before it dropped off her face as quickly as it appeared. Her hand shot out, and she grabbed hold of his leather jacket, wrenching him to an ungainly stop. Rose twirled on the spot, catching the recoil of his abrupt halt. "Trouble."

"Are you calling me trouble?" He asked, genuinely curious. "Or –?"

"Or," she said quickly, using her other hand to point ahead of them. "Very much or."

He looked around. His hearts dipped in his chest.

"Oh, dear."

A frighteningly well-armed group of youths dressed in crisp uniforms had stepped out of a bar and onto the main street. There were eleven of them. The one on the outskirts of the group had already spotted the three of them. Zoe, as the Doctor had said, fitted in well on Tolandra with the warm orange-red undertones of her brown skin. She was dismissed as a Tolandran but he and Rose stood out quite prominently – their pale white skin that seemed to catch the sun and reflect it in a glare served only to highlight their differences like the proverbial sore thumb. Even from the distance they were apart, it was clear to see the internalised and deeply ingrained hatred on the face of the youth and the way he seemed to spoil for a fight with his tense, shifting agitation.

He opened his mouth and yelled. "Hoy!"

The rest of the group looked around, first with curiosity and then with violence. Normally, the three travellers would attempt to talk their way out of a difficult situation but it was clear that there would be no reasoning with them. At least not in that moment.

One of them started running towards them, beginning a stampede of angry, armed youths.

The Doctor swallowed nervously, the way to the TARDIS blocked off. He fell back onto his normal backup plan and yelled, _"run!"_

* * *

Rose had had to wait until nightfall to leave the protection of her safe house, which consisted of a small room at the top of a house of those who were against the purges. Self-declared pacifists who disagreed with the manner in which the Tolandran government dealt with off-worlders whilst still agreeing with the principles behind the cause of the Independence movement. She had been subjected to hours of back and forth conversation over the rights and wrongs of what the Purgers did; she had tried to care, she really did, but it was difficult to muster up any sympathy whilst she was terrified out of her mind for the Doctor and Zoe.

They tried to persuade her against leaving but she needed to do something to help, and she didn't trust anyone else to do the job properly. The Doctor and Zoe were strangers with no faces to the pacifist group but to Rose they were everything. She would fight harder for them than anyone else, and she wouldn't accept no for an answer. However, she did concede to letting them try to conceal her distinctive features with a long coat and a deep hood that she could pull over her face, her blonde hair tied tightly back so that it didn't slip free. She had blanched when they suggested covering her skin in make-up to make it appear darker. Her own cultural upbringing prevented her from allowing them to do that. She slipped on a pair of thin gloves and made certain to keep her face covered.

She walked with a group of four so that they looked like friends going out for an evening, grateful that there was a fine mist of rain that allowed her to pass by with her hood up with no strange looks. One of the people tapped her wrist as they approached a new shiny bar called _The Outlet_ along the most social street in the capital city where everyone went for a good time – neon bars and nightclubs lined each side, occasionally interspersed with restaurants or takeaways.

Even at night everything glittered beautifully.

It really was a beautiful planet. The most beautiful the Doctor had ever taken them to. She just wished they had landed in the right time. She didn't like being separated from Zoe, and she liked even less being separated from the Doctor. At least if she was with Zoe, the two of them could figure something out together, but without the Doctor Rose just felt like the stupid ape he had accused her of being.

She tugged the hood further over her head, taking care to keep her blonde hair out of sight, and she stepped into the darkened bar. People were talking and laughing and having a good time, like any Friday night out in London, except the atmosphere had a shivering undercurrent of tension running through it. As though everyone was aware that their lives could change immediately. She looked around as discreetly as she could and caught sight of her contact. She wound her way through the crowd and approached the shadowed table in the corner, exactly where they said he would be.

"Ula Penka?" Rose asked, her London accent tripping on the man's name.

The man turned his pock-marked face up to look at her, dark eyes dragging over her body as the coat did little to conceal her curves. She wished she had thought of buttoning it up but it was too late now.

"Who's asking?" He replied with a deep, rumbling voice that sounded as though it was being dragged across gravel.

"Jol Fero sent me," she said. He held her in his gaze for one moment more before nodding and she slid into the seat opposite him. "Jol told me that you might be able to help me with somethin'."

Ula swirled his drink in his hand, leaning back casually so that his jacket slipped over the weapon he carried at his waist, revealing it to her eyes. "I don't help for free, stranger."

"I can pay," she said, reaching into her pocket to remove the a small fold of notes that she had taken from the bank with the credit stick the Doctor had given her months ago. She slid it across the table; he palmed it, making it disappear into his jacket.

He leaned forward, interested now that there was money involved. "Then what's this something you need?"

"Information," Rose said, her heart ticking with anxiety in her chest. "I'm lookin' for my friends. They were taken in the purges two days ago. I need to know where they're being held."

Ula Penka pursed his thin lips. "Sweetheart –"

"Rose," she corrected him firmly. "My name is Rose, not sweetheart."

His eyebrows twitched.

"Whatever you want, _Rose,_ " _h_ e said with a bite to his words. "If your friends were picked up in the purges, then there's a good chance they're already dead."

"They're not," she said with certainty. "They're off-worlders. They're being held in detention but I don't know where, which is where you come in. Jol said that you deal in information. This is the information that I want."

"It's going to cost you a lot more than what you've given me," Ula Penka warned her. She wanted to reach across the table and spit in his face when she felt his hand on her knee beneath the table but she remained as calm as she could.

She took his hand and twisted just like Shareen had taught her to do after the fiasco that was her relationship with Jimmy Stone. Ula Penka grunted with pain.

"I can pay you with money," she said coldly, "but I'm not on the table."

"Shame," he said with a hiss, yanking his hand back and shaking it out. "I want half up front."

She slowly pulled her hand back. "Fine."

"Who are your friends?" He asked, settling into work now that the business side was taken care of.

"They're names are the Doctor and Zoe Tyler," Rose said, reaching into her jacket and pulling out the photograph on her phone of the three of them that they had taken at the Queen concert two months ago; the Doctor stood behind them with a smile, and Rose and Zoe were hugging each other, happy and a little bit drunk. She slid it across the table to him.

"Pretty girl," Ula Penka observed upon setting eyes on Zoe. Rose bristled. "Relax. Just an observation."

She quelled the surge of irritation and impatience inside of her. She just needed to find them and everything would be okay.

"You can find them though?" She asked, needing the reassurance.

"Yes," he replied. "I just need time."

* * *

It took another two days for Ula Penka to find the information that Rose paid for.

There had been fresh purges during that time. The government was clearly worried that more aliens were on Tolandra, and Rose watched with her heart in her mouth as a picture of the Doctor was flashed onto the screen labelling him as _an alien enemy seeking to destroy Tolandra_. There was no picture of Zoe to match it, and Rose didn't know whether to worry about that. She was unable to leave the house due to security concerns both for her own well-being but also because she wasn't trusted, and so she spent those two days in the safe room at the top of a nondescript house in the middle of the city. The noise from the streets rose and fell depending on the time of day. It grew louder when it was lunchtime and then again in early evening as people left work and fled the office district of the city for the flashing neon signs of the entertainment district.

Rose wanted to go back to the TARDIS but it would have been impossible to make the journey across the city to where it was parked. The Doctor's penchant for parking on the outskirts because he enjoyed the walk had come back to bite them in the ass. Fortunately, no one seemed to have noticed the TARDIS. The perception filter around it kept causing people's eyes to slide over it, looking near it but never directly at it unless they knew it was there. It was why she hadn't asked Jol Fero to send people to check on it. She didn't trust the self-proclaimed pacifists to not try and enter it.

Not that they could but the principle remained.

She was bored, and riddled with worry over the fate of her sister and the Doctor. She passed the time trying to distract herself by reading newspapers or surfing the Tolandran version of the Internet, but she was just slowly driving herself mad. Sometimes Jol Fero would come up to talk to her but he often left her alone. He and his group might have been pacifists but they still held no true love for off-worlders – the plunder of their planet was a powerful motivator to keep their distance from Rose who watched them from afar.

She was grateful for their help but she didn't like the way they edged around her, murmuring under their breath whenever she appeared, eyes dark and distrustful. She would pull back when that happened, retreat back to her room at the top of the house, constantly feeling that she should be doing more to help. It was lunchtime on the third day when they came for her.

She was methodically eating a fresh salad that contained edible jewels, which Rose desperately wanted to share with Zoe who she knew would get a kick out of it, and turning over and over in her mind what sort of treatment the Doctor and Zoe were receiving as she poked at the fresh green leaves with her fork when there was a knock on the door. She paused, fork halfway to her mouth and watched as Jol Fero stepped through it.

He was a tall, handsome man with velvet dark skin and the most beautiful brown eyes Rose had ever seen on any being in all of time and space. His voice was a deep, rumbling purr and under other circumstances she would have tried flirting with him. He folded his body into the room, and she self-consciously shrugged off the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders, feeling miserable.

"Ula Penka has delivered the information," he said.

 _Finally,_ she thought, surging to her feet, knocking her salad over the space where she slept. She took a step towards Jol Fero, reaching out to grab hold of his shirt but he took a small but noticeable step back.

"Where are they?" She demanded.

"They're being held separately," he said calmly as he closed the door behind him with a loud click. His arms folded over his chest. "Your friend is in Paka Prison, cell 179m awaiting deportation; your sister is still being interrogated."

"Still?" Rose asked, panicked as she focused on the information about Zoe. The Doctor was more than capable of taking care of himself. In fact, she was a little surprised that he hadn't already broken out of custody and come to find her to help rescue Zoe. "It's been four days. Why are they still questionin' her?"

"They believe that she's a member of our movement," he explained with his low, serious voice that was simultaneously soothing and unnerving. "They're interrogating her for our location and any information that might prove valuable in stopping our work."

"But she doesn't know anything!" She exclaimed. "She doesn't even know you exist."

"That won't matter to the authorities," Jol Fero said. "All that matters is that she looks like us and she was caught with a self-confessed alien." Rose had known that the Doctor's inability to shut up for more than five seconds in a dangerous situation would come back to harm them one day. "They will likely continue interrogating her until they believe that she knows nothing, and then they will punish her for her relationship with your friend."

Rose's head swam at all the information. "Relationship? What relationship?"

"They're of the belief that your sister and your friend are lovers," Jol Fero said; the idea was so ludicrous and laughable that it didn't register in Rose's mind for a long moment. Zoe and the Doctor as lovers? She couldn't think of a stranger pairing if she tried. No. Wait. That wasn't fair: the Doctor and Jackie Tyler. The mere thought made Rose's stomach churn. She wondered how the authorities had got the idea that the two were lovers as they tended to snipe at each other as siblings would but with less bite. "Relationships with off-worlders is strictly forbidden and punishable by ten years imprisonment."

She felt overwhelmed and remembered the trick Bev had taught her to combat her panic attacks in the aftermath of Jimmy Stone. She pressed one hand against her diaphragm and used the other to tap a rhythm beneath her ear; she breathed in deeply, focusing and trying not to let the panic consume her. She felt useless without the Doctor and adrift without Zoe.

Jol Fero watched her with quiet interest but remained silent whilst she took the time to sort herself out. Eventually, she felt a little calmer and released herself.

"Where's Zoe bein' held?" Rose asked, pleased that she sounded more in control and that the panicked edge was shaved from her voice.

"The central district," he said. "And I know what you're thinking, but it's a bad idea."

"I won't sit here while my sister's bein' interrogated," she snapped, dropping her hands from her body. "Because I reckon you're usin' interrogation when you mean torture." He held her eyes and didn't deny it. "She's my little sister. I'm the entire reason she's here. She's supposed to be at uni but then I met the Doctor an', well..."

"The central district is too well protected," he said simply, though not unkindly. "There are armed guards everywhere. You have to pass through 12 different levels of biometric scans to get to where your sister's being held, and then you need to get back out again."

"Your people –"

"Won't risk their lives for an off-worlder," Jol Fero said. Fury swept over her expression. "I'm sorry, but it's the truth."

"Then what would you have me do?" Rose demanded. "Because I don't know what to do! All I know is that I need to save my sister."

Jol Fero watched her with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. She wanted to smack it off his face; she didn't need his pity, she just needed his help.

"For the last year, we've been putting together a plan to take over Paka Prison," he said after a moment's silence where the air between them vibrated with her anger and helplessness. "We want to use it as a negotiating position to force the government to introduce more liberal policies regarding the treatment of off-worlders here and harsher policies for the intergalactic businesses that get away with murder because they can pay their way out of trouble."

"When you say take over," Rose began because travelling with the Doctor had taught her to pay close attention to people's words, "you plannin' on killin' people?"

"We are advocating for pacifism.," he reminded her. "It would be hypocritical of us to kill to reach that goal."

"What people say and what people do when faced with gettin' what they want are two different things," she pointed out, and he inclined his head thoughtfully. "Can you get me to the Doctor?"

"Yes," Jol Fero replied, "but it will take time."

"It's already taken time!" She nearly shouted, hands clenched into fists at her side, exasperated with all the waiting she had to do. "Four days of it! How much longer is Zoe meant to suffer?"

"We need to be ready," he said, calm in the face of her anger. "We only have one chance to do this right. If we get it wrong, we won't get another one."

She breathed through her nose. There was a pain building up behind her eyes, pressing against her forehead and making her temple throb.

"How much longer?"

"At least a week."

Irritation, anger, despair, and sadness burst through Rose. It made her shake.

She didn't know what Zoe was experiencing in her interrogation – _torture_ she reminded herself – and to make her live through another week of it was unbearable to Rose. She closed her eyes and tightened her fists. She needed to think.

What would Zoe do?

What would the Doctor do?

If the Doctor was free, he would have already solved the problem. They would have been back on the TARIDS laughing days ago, another adventure gone sideways already behind them.

Zoe though...Zoe would wait. She would bide her time. Patience had always been her strong suit – calculating the right time to make her move was exactly why she was so good at chess.

Rose hoped that her sister would forgive her. She opened her eyes and looked at Jol Fero.

"All right then," she said, eyes blazing. "What can I do to help?"


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

The Doctor opened his eyes in a clean, bland police cell that was certainly not the worst he had ever been in. He quickly and effectively catalogued the environment. Sharp clean lines dominated the design of the room that contained a moderately uncomfortable cot that he was slumped on and a gleaming toilet in one corner that was made out of one very large jewel. The filter of moonlight through the barred window bathed the room in a silvery glow, glinting off the jewelled cistern and letting him know that more time than he would have liked had passed since he was last conscious.

His hearts beat reassuringly steady in his chest. He had only been unconscious for a few hours according to his internal chronometer that was very rarely wrong. He shifted and tried to sit up, but his head gave an almighty throb at the base of his neck where he had been struck with a heavy, blunt object that pushed him into unconsciousness, leaving him to crumble to the jewelled streets with Zoe's screams fading into the distance. He collapsed back against the bed, mouth slick with adrenaline, hearts pounding at the pain; his vision swam before his eyes.

"Ow," he murmured on a groan, raising his hand to prod at the wound with careful fingers.

It was very sensitive but his superior biology would heal it within a few hours and by morning he would be recovered. He just needed to be patient, which was admittedly not one of his strong suits.

With his eyes closed he thought back to his capture and tried to figure out what had happened to Zoe and Rose. They had been able to avoid the youths for at least thirty minutes but the ravenous hatred within them for aliens kept them on their tail. The Doctor had led his friends down narrow alleys and through buildings but wherever they went, they were followed. He had hoped that they would eventually give up but they hadn't. When they burst out of a clothing shop – terrifying a young mother in the process – Zoe had run straight into the arms of one of the youths who flung her violently to the ground.

Rose had rushed to her assistance, kicking and clawing at anyone who stood between her and her sister, whilst the Doctor tried to distract the rest of them. Fortunately, attracting anger was something that he was good at. The bruise on his jaw and the blood that dried under his nose were testaments to that. It was a very long time since he had been in a fist fight. For so long he had fought using words and clever ideas and moving pieces as though on a chess board. It was only in the dying days of the Time War that his hands were stained with the dirt and blood of his enemies.

 _What happened to Rose_?

He couldn't remember.

He had been focused on reaching Zoe and making sure that she could stand up and not be trampled that he had seen a flash of Rose's blonde hair and then that was it.

Zoe had pushed Rose away, throwing her out of the circle of vicious youths with their spit-flecked mouths and snarled expressions. She had yelled at her to run – _please, Rose, run_ – and Rose had done just that, though reluctantly and with her face twisted in distress. Relief flooded the Doctor at the memory. He believed that Rose was safe. She was a smart girl – ingenious even – she would have found her way back to the TARDIS without too many problems.

It was a relief to know that he only had to worry about one of the girls instead of both.

He just needed to figure out what had happened to Zoe. He knew that she had still been fighting when he lost consciousness. She had probably still been fighting long after that until they had knocked her out; he couldn't imagine they would leave her awake and angry. The memory of her furious voice and her scream of his name filled him with concern and anger. As far as trips went, it wasn't one of the best he had taken them on. He regretted that it was the first trip for Zoe after Van Statten's bunker and also for Rose after 1987.

His head began to settle into a low, manageable throb. He pushed himself up, fighting through the nausea of his head injury. He stumbled across the room in his socked feet, boots and jacket missing, to slam his fist repeatedly against the door and in order to attract attention. No one answered. He rested his forehead against the cool wall and kept up a repetitive, angry banging with the base of his fist. Finally, he heard a door slid open and the staccato of shoes against a bare floor. He lifted his forehead from the wall and straightened up, tugging his jumper down as the door flickered and turned transparent.

A severe looking woman in her mid-forties stood on the other side dressed in the dull-red uniform of the police force. Her hair was pulled tightly back from her face, tightening the skin around her flinty eyes. Her collar was buttoned so tightly that curtains of skin threatened to spill out over the top and gave a slight flush to her cheeks. Her eyes flicked over him, lip curling up, and found him wanting.

" _What_ , alien?"

The sharp hatred in her words cracked through the air between them.

"No need to be rude," the Doctor chastised, and her expression darkened. He quickly changed track as there was no need to get on the wrong side of the police yet. "Where's my friend? The girl who was with me? Her name's –"

"Zoe Tyler," the woman said, speaking over him. His hearts sank at them already knowing her name, not pleased about what that might mean. "We know who she is."

"Where is she?" He repeated, his voice low and demanding.

The woman simply looked unimpressed and more than a little disgusted at being in his presence. Tolandra wasn't the first planet he had ever visited where xenophobic sentiment was rife but it never got any easier to deal with. He tended to avoid the times when such feelings were prevalent.

At least he tried to.

It didn't always work.

 _Obviously._

"She is being held elsewhere," she said dismissively, already turning from him. "You will be spoken with in the morning to determine your reason for being here and to begin the extradition process."

"You'll find that difficult," he said, mind touching briefly on the empty wound that was Gallifrey. "But we don't mean any harm. We were just visiting, Zoe and me. We're travellers. She wanted to see somewhere beautiful so I brought her here."

"Are you now?" She asked with a note of interest that had been missing from her voice before, focusing her attention on him. He tried to find which of his words had piqued her interest but failed as they were all generic. "And how long has she been travelling with you?"

The Doctor frowned with confusion. "What does that matter?"

"It matters," she sighed, adopting an air of someone talking to a particularly stupid child. "Because association with aliens is against the law and is punishable by up to twenty years in prison."

"Zoe's not Tolandran," he protested, finding that he wished there were bars to curl his fingers around to steady himself as the room swam; he fought against the rising tide of incapacity that threatened to overwhelm him. "She's a human from Sol 3."

"And do you have proof of that?" The woman asked. His mouth opened and closed uselessly because short of genetically testing her using the TARDIS sickbay, he couldn't actually prove anything. The Tolandrans didn't have the type of medical and scientific equipment needed to prove anything and Zoe didn't have any documentation proving she was a human as she was from the 21st century. They would have discovered his physic paper by now, which meant that it was useless. His expression turned mutinous. "As I expected. I suggest that you do not lie for her. It will only work against her later. Now, don't cause any more disturbance or I'll be forced to sedate you. Someone will collect you in the morning for your interrogation."

"No, wait!" He exclaimed but the door reverted back to normal, reflecting his angry, face. He scowled at his reflection. "Dammit! Listen to me! I want to speak to her! We have the right to talk to each other under sub-section seventy-six of the Tolandran detention code."

The woman's cold, unamused laughter filtered through the door. "You are an alien. You have no rights here."

The Doctor cursed and kicked the door with his foot before stumbling back to his cot and slumping back down, head spinning wildly. Moments later, he lurched for the toilet to expel his breakfast.

* * *

"State your name for the record."

"Zoe Patricia Tyler."

"Date of birth."

"30th January 1989."

"Impossible. State your date of birth."

"I've been tryin' to tell you, I'm not from this planet _or_ this time. I'm from –"

"State your date of birth."

"30th January 1989."

"Ma'am, lying to us won't do you again good."

"I'm tellin' you the truth!"

"Let's just move on. Place of birth."

"London, Britain, _Earth._ "

"I'm not familiar with that country."

"It's not a country, it's a planet. Sol 3, or whatever. I'm from there."

"Ma'am –"

"I'm not lyin'."

"You were discovered in the presence of an alien –"

"Then one would think that believin' me to be an alien wouldn't be that much of a stretch now, would it?"

"Please watch your attitude, ma'am. It won't help you."

"Look. Let me speak to the Doctor. He can clear all this up. It's just been a big misunderstandin', all right? We're just here as tourists. Nothin' more."

"Your _friend_ is currently unconscious."

"What the hell have you done to him?"

"The youth wing of our organisation were a little...vigorous in their apprehension of you."

"A little? They knocked him unconscious!"

"He is fine. You should concern yourself with your own affairs."

"He is my affair."

"In what way?"

"He's my friend."

"Is that all?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It is a strange thing, is it not? A young woman, such as yourself, travelling with an older man?"

"Really? Is that the best theory you can come up with? I must be havin' sex with him?"

"Are you not?"

"That's really none of your business. I want to see a lawyer."

"A what?"

"A lawyer: a legal official who can represent my interests in your legal system."

"You do not have the right to a legal representative."

"Why not?"

"You are either the alien that you claim to be, in which case you have no rights under our law, or you are a Tolandran citizen as we believe you to be, in which case you have no rights under the Segregation Law of 4130."

"Don't I have to be proved guilty of a crime before you withhold resources from me?"

"No."

"How charmingly barbaric."

"We've got off course. Let us go back. When did you meet the alien?"

"It doesn't matter because I'm not from Tolandra. I'm from Earth. I'm human. Surely you must have heard of humans."

"We know of them. A profligate race that spreads itself out without care or concern of what stands in there way. You would lay claim to this species?"

"Well, we don't sound great when you say it like that, but yes, I'm human."

"Convenient that you would choose a species so similar to Tolandrans."

"For fuck's – this is a basic humanoid form throughout the universe. We all more or less look the same. Two legs, two arms, one head with a few variations upon a theme. On Alfava Metraxis, the Aplans have two heads, not that I've seen them. Well, not in person. I saw a picture once. And the Judoon! The Judoon are sort of rhino-like creatures, but we all share the basic template. Of course we look alike."

"Indeed."

"Oh, fuck off."

"Let's go back."

"How 'bout we don't but say we did?"

"Ma'am."

"Zoe Patricia Tyler. January 30th 1989. London, Britain, Earth. Human."

"When did you meet your alien friend?"

"I met him six months ago. He was travellin' with my...with someone else. They returned home, to Earth, an' that's when I met him."

"And when did you start travelling with him?"

"Five months after that."

"Why did you wait so long?"

"I wanted to finish my exams."

"Where did you complete your schooling?"

"Coal Hill Sixth Form. London. Britain. Earth."

"Ma'am, please, you will get into more trouble for lying than simply for telling the truth."

"Officer Tor, I'm beginnin' to feel that you were born stupid."

"I see. Let the record note that the interview has ended at 13. . Will resume when the accused is more cooperative."

"You haven't even accused me of anything."

"Rest, Miss Tyler, you will need it."

"Hey! Wait. What are you accusin' me of? Hey! Get back here!"

* * *

The severe woman from the night before was replaced by a tall, friendly looking man who smiled at the Doctor when he was escorted into an interview room in handcuffs. Not for a second did he believe that the man, who was dressed in civilian clothing rather than the uniform, would be any more flexible than Nurse Ratched. He waited for the handcuffs to be removed from behind his back before taking his seat in the chair at the smooth table where he was then handcuffed to that. He discreetly tested the strength of them, strong but he could break them given time.

"Good morning," the man said. "I'm Officer Corat Bol. I hope you've been able to get some rest."

"The concussion that you left unattended wasn't exactly conducive to a good night's sleep," the Doctor replied, having already made note of eleven different ways he could incapacitate Corat Bol whilst still restrained.

"I'm sorry about that," Corat Bol replied, and he made a convincing display of apology and concern on his face. "We can postpone this interview until after you've been checked over by our medical staff."

"Not necessary," he said. "It's already healed."

"Fascinating." Officer Bol said, truly meaning it. "What planet are you from?"

"You wouldn't have heard of it," the Doctor said. "Where's my friend?"

"She's being interviewed as we speak," he answered with a warm, charming smile that the Doctor saw right through. "I can assure you she's perfectly fine."

"I'd rather see that for myself, thanks," he said. "I want to speak to her."

"I need you to answer some questions before we can even talk about arranging that," Corat Bol said, unconcerned by the Doctor's requests, opening a file in front of him with a click of his fingers. He removed a stylus pen from his pocket and looked at him blandly. "Now, what is your name?"

He sat back in his seat, handcuffs rattling when he made to fold his arms across his chest; irritated that he couldn't, he crossed his ankle across his knee instead.

"The Doctor."

"That's a title, not a name," Corat Bol replied. "What is your name?"

"Just the Doctor."

"The Doctor?"

"Hello." He gave his fingers a little wriggle.

"I see," Officer Bol said dryly, jotting down the name. "And your date of birth?"

The Doctor scraped some dried mud off his boot with the leg of the table. "By which calendar?"

"The Tolandran calendar, of course."

"No idea," he said, letting the flakes of mud fall to the floor simply because he could and because he suspected it would annoy Corat Bol with his impeccably pressed shirt and perfectly styled hair. "Not from Tolandra, you see?"

"That much is obvious," Corat Bol said with a slight curl of his lips. "Very well. What is your age?"

"Don't rightly know," the Doctor said. "Been about a bit me. Lost track a couple of centuries ago when I got stuck in a time loop. Had other things on my mind at the time, pun intended."

There was a slight tightening in the thin skin around the officer's eyes, and the Doctor knew that he was getting to him. "An estimation then, Doctor."

"Oh, I don't know." He tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling that was study with jewels to resemble the Tolandran flag. "Anywhere from 900 to 1200, I suppose. Like I said, 's hard to tell."

Corat Bol's stylus paused over his pad. "You expect me to believe that you are 900 years old?"

He flashed him a wide, toothy smile that stretched across his face. "Or up to 1200."

"Doctor –"

"The universe is a strange and wonderful place, Corat Bol," he interrupted. "Filled with things you can't even begin to possibly imagine. There are beings that live hundreds of thousands of years and those with lifespans of only a day. Open your mind and accept that the universe doesn't conform to what you believe is true and natural. You'll have much more fun that way."

Corat Bol's eyes lingered on him and just beneath the dark surface was a shiver of hatred. He jotted down the Doctor's age and moved on, brushing the words from his mind. "Planet of birth?"

"Gallifrey," he said, a knife of pain sliding between his ribs at speaking the name out loud to someone who wasn't Zoe. It felt as though he was tainting his home and the memory he had of it to toss it out without a breath.

"What is your reason for being on Tolandra?"

"Travel," the Doctor answered. "That's what I do. I travel. See new places, meet new people, have fun. Nothing sinister."

"We will be the judge of that," Corat Bol replied. "What is your relationship with Zoe Tyler?"

"She's a friend."

"Your relationship isn't sexual?"

The Doctor tried not to sigh. He couldn't remember if people had mistaken his friendships with his old friends as a sexual relationship or not but it seemed to be happening with an alarming frequency with the Tyler sisters. Maybe it was his face. Maybe his new face suggested sexual favours. He hoped not. He really tried to aim for wise professor with each regeneration but he seemed to fail on almost every occasion.

"No, our relationship isn't sexual," he said. "She's seventeen years old."

"She's a minor?" Corat Bol asked with his real first display of emotion. "When did you first meet her?"

The Doctor considered his answer before deciding honesty was the best policy. "For me? Two months ago. For her, it was a little longer." Officer Bol stared at him. "Time travel."

"I see," he said in that grating tone of voice again. "And do you make it a habit of travelling with underage girls, Doctor?"

"Oi!" He frowned deeply. "I don't like what you're inferring."

Corat Bol tapped his stylus against the table lightly. The _tap-tap_ sounded ominously official in the quiet of the room that was only broken by the light hum of the air conditioning. "If you're innocent then you have nothing to fear from my questions."

"The age old cry of the oppressor." The Doctor rolled his eyes. "I've answered enough of your questions. I want to see Zoe Tyler now."

Officer Bol set the stylus down and folded his long fingered, neatly manicured hands in front of him, lacing the fingers together. "That's not possible right now."

Dread began to creep into the Doctor's hearts. "Why not?"

"As I said at the beginning," he said patiently, "she's undergoing her own interview –"

"Interrogation."

"And we're not finished here," he continued as though uninterrupted. "Once you have answered my questions to my satisfaction, I will see what I can do about allowing you to see Miss Tyler."

"I'm not answering any more questions until I've seen her and spoken with her," the Doctor said, voice as cold as ice and eyes beginning to darken with the rage that had sent enemies running from before him.

Corat Bol was either ignorant, or too stupid, to recognise the danger he was walking into with his refusal. "I advise you to not make things more difficult for her."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean _more difficult_?"

"As an alien, you are simply facing deportation and a heavy fine for being here," Corat Bol said smoothly. "I'm afraid that Miss Tyler is facing a far greater punishment for associating with an alien in direct contravention of the Segregation Laws of 4130."

"Those laws only apply to Tolandrans," the Doctor noted. "Zoe isn't Tolandran."

"Forgive me, Doctor, if your word isn't enough for me to spare your lover," he said, and the Doctor's face tightened with anger. "Forgive me. _Friend_. We must make examples of those Tolandrans who choose to flout the law and risk bringing irreparable harm to our planet because of their baser instincts. Zoe Tyler will be held up as an example of what happens to those who betray Tolandra."

The Doctor strained against the restraints. The table groaned at the pressure. Corat Bol looked mildly alarmed. "You won't hurt her. I won't let you."

"Is that a threat, Doctor?" Corat Bol asked, dark eyes flicking between the restrains and the Doctor's stone-like face.

"That, Officer Corat Bol, is a fact."

* * *

 _Two Days Later_

The door to her cell actually opened for a change. For the last 24 hours – or so she guessed as she lacked any means of measuring time – Zoe had been locked away in her cell with nothing to do but stare at the walls and wonder why the Doctor hadn't staged a jailbreak yet. She hoped he was okay but Officer Tor had stopped giving her information on the Doctor on the second day when her answers remained infuriatingly the same. She accused her of lying when the only words that left her mouth were the truth. She accused her of being part of pacifist cell of activists who advocated for a peaceful resolution to the alien presence on their world despite the fact Zoe didn't recognise faces or names.

It figured that the first planet where being black meant that she blended in was also a planet where she got to spend time in jail being interrogated and fitted up for crimes that she didn't even know existed.

She sighed and picked up her ball of socks from the floor. Shortly after waking, with nothing else to do, she had peeled off her socks and stuffed them inside each other. She then lay back on her cot and tossed them repetitively into the air, seeing how long she could go without dropping them. So far, her record was sixty-seven.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five –"

She was on fifty-eight and beginning to get hopeful that she was about to break her record when the door to her cell slid open. She started. The socks bounced off her chin. She pushed herself up but wasn't quick enough as two armed guards grabbed an arm each and heaved her to her feet roughly.

"Hey!" She protested, startled at the sudden violence of it all. "What the hell are you doin'?"

"I wish it didn't have to come to this," Officer Tor said, stepping lightly into the room, her beautifully braided hair looped up onto the back of her head, her skin the warm colour of Zoe's – they looked more like sisters than she and Rose did. "But you have proven remarkably resistant to common sense."

"Come to what?" She asked, eyeing the guards with trepidation, their gloved grip above her elbow bordering on painful. She tried to wriggle free but they tightened their fingers, and she stilled.

"We have methods of extracting information from recalcitrant criminals," Officer Tor said, the lines at the corner of her mouth deepening with a barely there smile. "I hoped that you would be spared such things, but you have made your decision by continuing to spout lies."

"You're talking about torture," Zoe said as her mind went blank with panic. "You can't do this. I'm innocent."

"On the contrary," Officer Tor said pleasantly. "We can, and we will. You represent a terrorist threat to this planet. Laws governing treatment of prisoners are suspended in such cases. A judge has already ruled that extraordinary measures can be used on you."

"I've been tellin' you the truth!" She exclaimed as her skin erupted with sensitivity as her panic tried to break free. She dug her bare heels into the unforgiving ground. "Just because you're too narrow minded to see what's past your nose doesn't mean that it's not true."

"Take her to room one." Officer Tor ignored her as she addressed the guards who had hold of her arms. "I will oversee the interrogation personally."

"No!" She yelled, and she wrenched her elbow free and drove it back as hard as she could. She felt something break under the force. She slammed her bare foot down against the guard's shin. It was hopeless though. She was outnumbered and her fighting ability relied on being scrappy rather than any real skill. They subdued her in moments. "God-dammit! Let me go. I'm innocent – _I'm innocent_!"

Officer Tor stepped aside and watched dispassionately as Zoe Tyler was dragged from her cell.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

 _Six Days Later_

Paka Prison was one of the most beautiful buildings Rose had ever seen. Its architecture was sweeping and vast; its outer walls encrusted with jewels that caught the sun and sent prisms of rainbow light dancing through the air. From her viewpoint, hidden in the forest that encircled the isolated prison, Rose drank it all in as she brushed soft jewels from her face. Despite the circumstances she felt a frisson of delirious excitement at being able to see such a sight. Her, a chav from the estate with no A-levels, got to see the jewels of Tolandra – a sight that people home on Earth couldn't imagine existed.

She just wished it was under better circumstances.

The last week had been both busy and horrible in equal measure. She had thrown herself into hurrying the preparations for the assault on Paka Prison along, annoying and alienating almost most of Jol Fero's organisation with her simmering desperation and clumsy intrusiveness. Word had reached her only two days ago that Zoe had disappeared from the central computer system; Jol Fero then confirmed her worst fears that she was most likely being tortured for information. They had had a blazing row over pushing forward with the assault earlier than planned, which resulted in him locking her in her room until she calmed down, but that hadn't happened until she had scratched her fingers bloody against the heavy door and collapsed, exhausted, against it.

Every night she was visited with images of Zoe screaming under torture. She barely slept, and it showed in her tired appearance: dark circles under her eyes and her greasy hair plaited tightly back.

Although the sun was shining down on the surface, it was a cool day with a light cross breeze that slipped through her clothing and chilled her skin. She shivered in her jacket and tightened it about her. There was no sense in hiding who she was now. They were either going to succeed or they weren't. For Zoe's sake Rose had prayed to all the gods that she didn't believe in to make sure that their plan was a success. She needed the Doctor to free Zoe. He could get them back to the TARDIS and materialise right next to her if they had to.

A soft beep in her ear caught her attention. She raised her finger to her ear piece, securing it more tightly.

" _Red team, in position_." She heard as the pacifist group prepared for their takeover of the prison.

" _Blue team, in position._ "

Relief flooded through Rose.

They were finally starting.

After a week of unbearable waiting and two hours hidden in the branches in the forest, they were getting ready to go. She was part of yellow team – red, blue, and black would breach the prison first with yellow, white, and orange following quickly behind once the initial breach was made. She wanted to be at the front but Jol Fero, who was leading the charge, had refused to even consider it.

She stretched her stiff legs out and rolled her neck, stretching her fingers. She listened carefully.

" _Red team, blue team, black team_ ," Jol Fero said over the line, " _go, go, go._ "

It happened all at once.

The pre-laid charges at the prison gates exploded. The sound of metal twisting in on itself screamed through the air. Dozens and dozens of men and women streamed in through the open gates that left a cloud of smoke and dust in their wake, making it difficult for Rose to see through to what was happening. She heard the faint sounds of yelling and the discharge of energy weapons that incapacitated instead of killing. She pressed herself closer to the branch, trying to see better through the hanging jewels, heart pounding in her chest, mouth dry.

"Come on," Rose muttered. "Come on, come on, come on."

"Relax, alien," Harlo Von said from the opposite tree, her mouth flashing in a tight smile. "You're making me nervous."

Rose ignored her, unblinkingly staring ahead.

A lifetime seemed to pass from when the teams breached the gates to when they entered the building with klaxons ripping through the air. Soon, air support would arrive from the central city. Rose and the Doctor had to be out by then. Jol Fero and his organisation intended to hold the prison by sitting in protest within it until their demands were met. No one would be able to get in or out until one side made a concession and, from what Rose had learnt of Jol Fero and his like, they would rather die than concede to the government.

" _Yellow team, go_."

She half-leapt, half-fell from the branch. Her legs were uncooperative at first. She stumbled into Harlo Von who cursed at her but supported her until she could move under her own steam and then she was running. She ran as fast as she could across the grassy field, sprinting towards the open gate, not feeling the effects of running so fast due to the last two months with the Doctor.

She jumped over the debris of the gate and the groaning bodies of the guards, who twitched under the after effects of the energy weapons. She knew exactly where she needed to go. She had studied the layout of the prison with such determination that she could walk each corridor and room from her memory.

Insider information at the prison had told her that the Doctor had been moved to solitary confinement three days ago after he tried to stage a prison break for himself and the other aliens within.

 _Typical_ she had thought at the time.

He was now being held at the top of the prison, which was a more difficult location to reach but somewhat easier to escape from if one had enough nerve. Fortunately, where her sister was concerned, Rose had the nerve.

"Hoy!" A guard shouted when he saw her sprinting through the corridors.

He raised his weapon but Rose just shoved him out of the way as she streamed past, not looking back for fear of what she might see.

 _Up, up, up_ she thought desperately to herself, grateful that the chaos of the main prison had drawn most of the guards down there. She could hear curious voices call out to her from behind closed and sealed doors but she ignored them. The doors to solitary confinement were sealed. The guard standing nervously outside the door stood no chance against her fierce desperation. She ran towards him bent at the waist and slammed him into the door, driving the air from his lungs.

"Sorry!" Rose yelped, taking his head and slamming it against the wall, dancing back when he dropped like a bag of rocks.

She dropped to her knees and rooted through his uniform with shaking hands, removing his key card. She pressed it against the door. It beeped. She dragged the unconscious guard up under his elbows and grasped hold of his palm, placing it against the palm scanner. The door beeped again and slid open. She let him drop, scrambling out from under him and burst into the long, well-lit corridor.

Although she knew he was in solitary confinement, no one had been able to tell her which cell.

"DOCTOR!" Rose yelled, voice cracking, breathless from her exertion. "Doctor! Where are you? _Doctor_!"

"Rose!" A banging from the end of the corridor pulled her forwards. "Rose, I'm here!"

"Doctor!" She gasped, flinging herself at the door. "Oh, Doctor, thank god. Hold on. I'm goin' to get you out of there."

"Appreciate that," the Doctor said, and his voice was a welcome relief to her frayed nerves.

It took her longer than she wanted it to but she was able to get the door to do what she wanted. It flickered and turned transparent before it slid open. Rose threw herself into the Doctor's arms, clinging to him. He returned her hug with such enthusiasm that she was lifted from her feet. She pressed her face into his neck and started crying.

"You stupid idiot," she said through breathless tears. "I've bloody missed you."

"Hey, now," the Doctor said with kindness and gentleness rolling in his Northern accent. He used his thumb to wipe at her tears. "No need to cry."

"There's every need, you complete prat," Rose replied, punching him in the arm. "They've got Zoe an' they're torturin' her!"

The happy expression that had appeared on his face when he saw her disappeared only to be replaced with a look of dark anger. He seemed to sway on the spot.

"Where is she?" He demanded, and the steel behind his voice was so welcome to her that she didn't even think about being afraid.

"Not here," she answered, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the cell. His boots and jacket were missing, and he was wearing the prison uniform of white scrubs. The colour didn't suit him. "She was bein' held in the central district where you were first taken but she's not in the computer system any more, so we don't know where she is."

He squeezed her hand and hurried her down the length of the corridor. "We?"

"After I got away, I got help from a pacifist group here," Rose explained, wiping at her face and ignoring the guard on the ground even though the Doctor did a double take at her handy work. "I've been with them since we got separated. They're takin' over the prison now, but we've gotta get out. We'll be trapped in here when the central authority arrives."

"You have an escape plan?"

"Yes," she said, tugging him off the main corridor and through the staff corridor, moving quickly. "There's a car waitin' for us in the forest. We can use it to get back to the central city. Jol Fero said –"

"Jol Fero?" The Doctor interrupted.

"He's the one in charge," Rose said. "Why?"

"He's an important historical figure in Tolandran history," he explained. "He was the driving force in turning Tolandra into an intergalactic powerhouse." He looked around, curious and excited. "The Paka Prison sit-in is happening today?"

"Yeah, I guess," she frowned, tugging on his hand sharply. "Doctor, focus. _Zoe._ "

"Right." His excitement was wiped from his face. "Don't worry, Rose. We'll get her back."

"Course we will," she said. "I'm just worried about what condition we'll get her back in." She worried her lip as she freed her hand from the Doctor's to work open another door. "She's only seventeen. I'm supposed to protect her."

"I know," he said softly, reminded of how young both of his companions were – and how human. The door slid open. "Which way now?"

"Down," Rose said, pointing down the side of the building.

He peered over the edge at the narrow, winding staircase that was open to the elements, ostensibly a fire escape. In that moment, the Doctor discovered that he had a slight fear of heights in his new form; or rather, he feared treacherously narrow and winding staircases that appeared to wobble in the wind.

"Down. Right. Good," he said with a swallow.

"Where are your shoes?" She asked him, stepping out onto the grated and gated platform, testing her weight on it, before fearlessly making her way down.

The metal was like ice beneath his bare soles. He pushed on with the thought of Zoe at the forefront of his mind.

"They took them, " he complained. "And my jacket. I loved my jacket."

"Don't suppose you've got your screwdriver on you?" She asked hopefully, and he shook his head before realising that she couldn't see him.

"Nope." He swallowed as the staircase shook. "Sorry."

It took no time at all to reach the bottom because they were moving so fast. His stomach and head felt much better with the painful press of gravel beneath his feet. Rose took his hand again and he found himself in the unusual position of having to follow his companion's lead. She led him around the length of the prison, pushing him back when armed guards ran past them, concealing their presence by pressing tightly against the wall or crouching down low to the ground. She pressed her finger to her ear as she listened to something before she pulled the ear piece out and tossed it to the ground, crushing it beneath the heel of her trainer.

"They've taken the prison," Rose explained, glancing about them. "Jol Fero wished me luck."

"That's nice of him," the Doctor said a little distractedly.

History recorded Jol Fero as being the father of modern Tolandra, driving in an era of peace and cooperation between Tolandra and the rest of the universe by ending the xenophobic sentiment on his planet and bringing massive, unprecedented wealth to Tolandra that allowed it to enjoy a privileged position in the universe.

It's a shame the Doctor wouldn't have a chance to meet him.

Rose looked up at him as the sound of aircraft started to rumble in the sky. Time was clearly running out.

"Ready to run?" She asked him.

He threaded their fingers together and smiled down at her, pleased to see her lovely face again. "Always."

A smile touched her mouth, and he knew what was coming.

" _Run_."

And so they did.

* * *

The Doctor stumbled from the hover car that Rose had commandeered and swore never again to get into a vehicle with her behind the wheel. She hadn't even passed her driving test yet; he wasn't even sure if she had taken any lessons beyond what Mickey must have taught her in his beat-up yellow bug. She had casually tossed the news that she didn't have a license at him as they screeched around a corner, and he clutched hold of the dashboard – not that he really had room to criticise considering he had failed his own TARDIS driving test a grand total of five times but he still wouldn't get into a car with Rose Tyler behind the wheel again.

She had slammed the car to a stop near the TARDIS. His beautiful bluer-than-blue ship sitting innocuously beneath the colourful shade of a tree. His hearts soared at the sight of her. He hurried after Rose who reached around her neck and took her TARDIS key in hand, unlocking the doors. The familiar, comforting hum of the TARDIS surrounded him, welcoming him home. His hand gently passed over a coral strut as he made his way up the ramp to the control panel, fingers flicking buttons and twirling levers.

"Can you find her?" Rose asked, crowding him in her urgency.

"Absolutely," he said, trying to keep the concern from his voice but the thought of Zoe being tortured was difficult to settle with.

He ran a scan for Zoe with the TARDIS scanners. It wouldn't be difficult to track her down. She was not only familiar to the TARDIS but she was the only human on a planet of aliens. It would take only a few seconds to –

"Got her!" The Doctor cried. "Central District, Area 15. I can put the TARDIS down in her room."

"Do it!" Rose ordered with wide eyes, and he rushed around the console, wishing that he had three or four extra hands to make it go quicker.

The TARDIS started her wheezing groans, and the familiar vibrations ran through his bare feet: an interesting sensation. He considered going barefoot more often. He checked Zoe's life signs on the screen in front of him, glad that Rose couldn't read his native language. The signs were weak, her heart rate slow, and his stomach churned. The TARDIS barely finished its dematerialisation sequence before Rose raced down the ramp, grasped hold of the door and flung it open.

"Wrong room," Rose said, the annoyance audible in her voice. "It looks like a locker room."

The Doctor padded down the ramp and looked out behind her. He gave her a little nudge in the small of her back, and she exited the TARDIS. There was a reason the TARDIS had brought them there. She wouldn't play games when one of the people who lived inside of her was in trouble – she was always very good about that. It did look like a locker room. Rows and rows of pure white lockers lined the walls and he ran his fingers over them: each locker was assigned a number. He flipped his wrist over and looked at the number that was stamped on the thin flesh of his wrist.

"Look for number 78914," he told Rose, and she opened her mouth to argue with him but she snapped it shut, her nostrils flaring, before moving stiffly off.

There were hundreds of lockers in the room alone, and he knew there had to be more rooms dedicated to the belongings that were taken from the prisoners. He was just surprised that the items weren't incinerated as soon as the accused was convicted – guilty or innocent. Rose was the one who found the correct locker, and she stood back as he used a chair leg to jam it into the crevice and work the door open. Inside, in a vacuum sealed bag, were his belongings – his jacket, boots, and, most importantly, his sonic screwdriver.

"Gotcha," he said as he snatched his things out of the locker and ripped into the package with his teeth, reaching for his screwdriver. He gave it a little buzz and felt better with it in his hand. He glanced over at Rose. "Let's go get Zoe."

It wasn't difficult to find her now that the TARDIS had ensured that no advance alien technology was left behind on a planet and in a time where the people would certainly try to turn it into a weapon. The TARDIS landed moments later. Rose, already waiting by the door, ripped the door open and moved forwards before she froze as still as a statue.

"Zoe?"

Her voice sounded soft and childlike and _hurt_.

The Doctor hurried towards the doors of the TARDIS and loomed over Rose's shoulder, looking out into the room that was illuminated by the internal glow of the TARDIS. It was a dark, windowless cell that was barely the length of a Tolandran body stretched out. There was no furniture and only a single toilet in the corner; the room smelt of sweat and the sharp, tangy scent of human blood that made his jaw ache.

Rose took a step towards the corner of the room.

"Zoe?" She spoke tremulously. "It's me. It's Rose."

The Doctor looked over into the corner of the room and anger exploded through him with the force of a bomb.

Zoe Tyler was slumped naked in the corner. Her legs stretched were out in front of her, mottled with dark bruises that started at her toes and encircled her thighs. Her entire body was covered in them – half-healed cuts that were in the process of scabbing over on her skin; and her hair – her beautiful space hair – had been shorn off. The world around him focused entirely on Zoe. His body throbbed with anger. Someone was going to suffer for this. He didn't know who yet but he would find out and then they would suffer in _agony_ for inflicting this on Zoe.

"Rose?" Zoe's voice was a weak rasp. Blood filled spittle bubbled at the corner of her mouth. Her hand with its broken, swollen fingers inched towards her sister. "That you?"

"Yeah, ZoZo, it's me," Rose said, trying to sound positive and failing miserably. She gently touched her sister's arm. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," she murmured, barely able to move her mouth, her lips split and chapped, her eyes swollen shut. "You 'kay?"

Rose wiped at her eyes. "I'm fine, you prat."

Her head moved towards the light. "Doctor here?"

"I'm here, Zoe," he said quietly, moving forward to kneel at her side. His hand hovered over her knee before he touched her lightly, his palm covering her rounded kneecap that was not in the correct position. "We're going to get you out of here."

"Good," she whispered. "It's been rubbish. Preferred France."

"I bet you did," he said softly. "You think you can walk?"

"My knee...my ankle..."

He and Rose looked down at her ankle. Her foot was pointing in the wrong direction. Rose looked like she wanted to throw up. The Doctor's anger started hardening.

"That's okay," he assured her. "Reckon I'll have to carry you."

"I'm naked," she protested weakly, and Rose closed her eyes, mouth contorting in a grimacing laugh even though there was nothing remotely funny about the situation.

"I won't look," he promised. "Cross my hearts."

"Besides," Rose said, rallying herself for her sister. "Naked's a good look for you."

"Yeah?" She murmured, turning her head to where she imagined her sister to be.

"Oh, yeah, ten out of ten, definitely," Rose said with a nod, even as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Reckon if stupid Gregory Pearson could get a look at you now, he'd regret hookin' up with that tart Natalia."

Even with her injuries, Zoe blushed beneath the bruises. "Ro-o-se."

"Do I even want to know?" The Doctor asked, following Rose's lead in using the banter to keep Zoe's mind off of the situation at hand.

"Just a stupid boy who doesn't deserve my sister," Rose said, and a small smile flickered faintly across her sister's face.

"Alright then, Zoe Tyler," he said, sliding an arm under her knees with exquisite care – it was going to hurt regardless, but he did his best to mitigate the hurt –, and he shifted her so that he was able support her back. "Up and at them."

Zoe groaned when she was lifted into the Doctor's arms, face blanching at the pull on her damaged knee, but she bore the pain well. He readjusted her gently before carrying her into the TARDIS, letting Rose shut the doors behind them. He carried her through the console room and directly into the sickbay courtesy of the TARDIS who thrummed in concern over Zoe's state. He very tenderly placed her on the medical bed and stepped back, his white prison uniform smeared with her blood. Despite his promise not to look, his eyes were drawn to her naked, injured body.

"Right," he said gruffly after a moment. "Rose, put a blanket over her and start cleaning the blood from her. I'm going to put us in the Time Vortex, and then I'll be back."

"We're leavin'?" Rose asked, grabbing him by the arm, anger burning in her eyes. She spoke so Zoe couldn't hear her. "They tortured her, Doctor. I want someone to pay for this."

He gently placed his hand over hers, thumb rubbing against the soft skin on the back of her hand.

"Someone will," he promised, "but right now, we need to take care of her. That's more important at the moment."

She searched his eyes before nodding and moving off to do as he asked. The Doctor glanced back at Zoe before stepping out of the room where he bowed his head and slammed the flat of his hand against the wall in anger and helplessness.

* * *

Rose watched the Doctor run his hand gently over the top of Zoe's head, brushing against the shorn hair that now resided that. It had been badly done, and there were larger clumps where it should all be smooth. Rose felt sick looking at her. The bruises and the broken bones and the lacerations were awful but there was something degrading about having hair shorn off unwillingly. Zoe had had such beautiful hair – thick and curly when left loose around her face and shoulders; although, she did once go through a phase in her early teens when she wanted smooth, straight hair like her mother and sister. Jackie had saved up money to get it done at a proper salon, and Zoe had looked pretty but it hadn't been her, not really.

All of them were relieved when the curls came back.

The Doctor tenderly tucked the blanket around her a bit tighter, making sure that her bare shoulders were covered, readjusting the pillow slightly. Rose looked back at her sister when he turned around and dropped into the seat next to her, slumping down low. She reached for his hand and threaded their fingers together, not looking away from Zoe.

"Will she be okay?" She asked softly.

"She'll recover," the Doctor said. "Physically at least. I can take care of that. But mentally? I don't know."

Hopelessness and anger swelled up within her chest again. She felt the tears press hotly against her eyes and nose. Her voice was thick when she spoke.

"I hate them," she said fiercely, meaning every word. "I hate the people who did this to her."

The Doctor rubbed her hand. "I know you do."

"She's never hurt anyone in her life," Rose said, letting the tears fall. Jackie always said it was best to cry it out than to keep it locked inside; a good cry and a cup of tea helped solve most of a person's problems. Rose wasn't sure it would be enough this time. "Not once. Even when we were kids an' she used to get picked on a lot."

The Doctor looked surprised. "She did?"

"Big brain like hers?" She sniffed. "Course she did. She was always the cleverest person in school _an'_ she liked learnin'. I used to tease her about it as well, always havin' her nose in a book, doing my homework as well as hers because she liked it. On the estate, they don't really like it when they think you're gettin' airs an' graces. They always thought Zoe thought she was too good for us."

"People can be small-minded," he said, thinking that it explained a lot about Zoe and about her enthusiasm for learning that had been inexplicably tempered with shyness, as though afraid he would say no or tell her to stop bothering him.

"I remember once, I think she was seven or eight," Rose continued as she watched the rise and fall of her sister's chest beneath the warm blanket. "I was supposed to walk home with her but she wanted to go to the library, an' I always found it so borin' so I told her to be careful an' went to catch up with my mates. She got home an hour late. Me an' Mum thought she'd been murdered – it was just after Damilola was murdered, y'see? An' he was comin' back from the library at the time as well. I shouldn't have left her alone but I was stupid then an' I didn't understand...Mum was cryin' an' callin' the police when she walked in the door. She had these scrapes on her hands an' knees from bein' pushed over an' her school bag was gone.

"It took us ages to get her to tell us what happened. Turned out some older kids thought it'd be funny to take her things an' toss them into the road. She was really upset about it. Not that she'd been pushed around but that she'd lost her school bag. Mum was fumin'. She went stormin' around to the kids' houses with this baseball bat. Threatened to break the parents' legs if they came after her daughter again."

The Doctor snorted. "That sounds like Jackie."

Rose smiled slightly. "When she got back, she told Zoe that she couldn't just let people walk all over her. That she had to fight back. Zoe said she didn't want to fight back because she didn't want to hurt anyone, even if they hurt her."

"She's a good person," the Doctor said softly, meaning it.

"She is," she said, wiping at her face with her sleeve and letting her eyes linger on her sister's sleeping form. "I think – I think we should take her home."

The Doctor looked startled and disappointed. "What?"

"She'll want to see Mum when she gets better," Rose explained. "She'll want to feel normal again. Not for good, mind, not unless she wants to, but I reckon she's goin' to want to spend some time in her own bed."

It wasn't the _worst_ idea in the universe.

After Gallifrey fell, all he had wanted to do was to slip into his bedroom in his parents' house and sleep in the familiar surroundings of his childhood so that he could feel safe and protected. He couldn't have that but Zoe could.

"That's not a bad idea," he admitted. "But not yet. I don't want to take her back to Jackie like this. We'll give her a couple of days and then go back. Reckon I can land right around her A-level results are due."

Rose nodded. "Good. That's good."

She squeezed his hand softly, and they fell into silence as they watched Zoe sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

The Doctor pressed his thumb against the button on the side of the razor and the low buzzing sound stopped immediately. He stood behind Zoe in front of her bathroom mirror that was mounted on the wall above the sink. She was sat in an elevated chair in front of him, swallowed up by a pair of his old pyjamas that hung loosely off of her thin frame, toes not touching the ground. Her skin was over-sensitised from a mixture of the drugs he had running through her system and the psychological effects of what she was dealing with regarding the aftermath of her experience. Her clothes all felt too tight and so he had rummaged through the wardrobe to find a pair of pyjamas that he had thrown into the wash for her and then let Rose help her put on.

With gentle fingers he brushed the remnants of her hair from her ears and lifted the towel off her shoulders.

For three she had been in the sickbay drifting in and out of consciousness, occasionally screaming with such terror that it scared both him and Rose. One or both of them stayed with her at all times. Rose needed more sleep than he did so he often found himself in the position of sitting up and simply watching her sleep or reading aloud to her when she blinked up at the ceiling, consciousness returning to her and – with it – her memory of what had happened. She hadn't spoken much except to say _please_ and _thank you_ and to tell him which book she wanted him to read to her in the still silence of the sickbay.

There was a period of a few hours though, not long after he was sure that she would make a full physical recovery, where he left the girls in the sickbay with a laptop open between them so that they could watch a film and he returned to Tolandra. It wasn't difficult to find out who had been responsible for Zoe's torture and when he left the large, airy flat with the front door broken in his wake, he was certain that Officer Tol would never again be able to work in any branch of the government. He hadn't harmed her, at least not physically, but he made sure that she regretted her part in the torture of his friend.

He would never tell Zoe though, unsure whether she would approve or not. She had forgiven him for worse things but those hadn't been done in her name, which was where he suspected she drew the line.

He set the razor down on the edge of her sink and used the folded towel to brush the loose strands from her hair and back of her neck. Her jailers had done a bad job when shearing her curls away; although, he supposed they weren't focused on making sure that it was an even buzz cut. He had smoothed it out so that it was uniform. She was fortunate that her head was a pleasant shape – nice, smooth, and oval. The buzz cut suited her even though it was obvious that she hated it. Her healed fingers reached up to touch her new hair, brushing over the stubble before smoothing her palm over it.

"I look like an alien," she said, her large eyes hooded by dark, sleepless bruises stared at him in the mirror.

The Doctor was able to smile at that, tossing the towel into her laundry basket after shaking the hair into the sink.

"You are an alien," he told her.

She threw him an unimpressed look. "My head's weird."

"Your head's lovely," he promised her, resting his palm on the top of it. His hand was so large it covered most of her crown. "Like an egg."

She frowned at him in the mirror. "I don't think that's a compliment."

"Why not?" He protested. "What's wrong with eggs?"

"Nothin'," she said. "Just don't want to look like one."

He stroked his hand back off of her head. "If it really bothers you then I know a great place where we can get you a wig until your hair grows back. Any colour you like, any style too."

"What's the point?" She sighed, curling in on herself, looking like a wounded animal trying to prevent further injury. His hearts ached for her. "Won't actually solve anythin'. I'll still know the truth."

"Well, if you change your mind," he said, offering her his hand. He helped her to her feet, steadying her when she swayed dangerously.

Her strength had deserted her in the aftermath of her experience and had yet to return, and it left her feeling weak and vulnerable. She was still barely able to stand on her own two feet without help. Not that he minded being her support as his arm was hers whenever she wanted it. She had regained a little of her strength, enough so that she could at least lift a spoon to her mouth allowing her to feed herself – a small dignity that she fought for at every meal. It was obvious that her helplessness bothered her, even though Rose and the Doctor didn't mind playing the roles of her assistants. She hadn't yet lost her temper but she rode a wave of irritability that made it difficult to predict when sharp, biting words would spill from her mouth.

She was forced to lean her slight weight against him, and her feet shuffled slowly out of the bathroom. They made their way towards her bed where the covers were pulled back and a hot water bottle – courtesy of Rose who had stuck her head in to say goodnight earlier – were waiting for her. He helped her sit on the edge and crouched to lift her legs into bed, removing her slippers and tucking her in at the same time.

"Oh, _no,_ " Zoe whined softly when he reached for her medication on her bedside table.

"Sorry," the Doctor apologised softly, pushing her sleeve up with one hand. "It's for your own good."

"It makes me feel weird," she sulked with a childish pout, face contorting when he pressed the tube against her warm skin and depressed the medication into her system. "Makes my teeth go numb."

"Can you normally feel your teeth?" He asked curiously, interested at a new aspect of human biology he hadn't been aware of.

She pushed her tongue out at him, and he watched the medication take effect. Her eyes turned liquid, unable to focus too strongly on any particular point in her bedroom, and her entire body relaxed into the bed. He observed her quietly, watching as her fingers flexed and curled against her duvet covers. He knew she hated the medication. He hated having to make her take it but it really did help her. She made a few sounds in her throat, and he tugged her sleeve back down. Her hand caught his and she tangled their fingers together. She stared down at their joined hands and started laughing to herself, pressing her cheek into her pillow, glazed eyes amused.

"Alien hand," she giggled. Even though she was drugged with a powerful relaxing agent that helped to speed along the healing of her wounds and allow her mind to rest so that she could sleep without nightmares, he smiled at the sound of her laughter.

"Yours or mine?" He asked, rubbing his thumb softly over her knuckles.

"Dunno," she said loosely, words slipping together. "We're both aliens. To each other. An' other people...'specially the Tolandrans."

"Yes, we are," he said carefully.

She hadn't mentioned the Tolandrans since she was carried her out of her cell and secured safely within the TARDIS.

"It was a pretty planet," she yawned, head rolling back and forth against the pillow, feeling the material beneath her skull and, judging from the expression on her face, finding it a peculiar sensation. "Diamond trees. You took me to see diamond trees."

He sighed quietly, rubbing her hand with his. "I did."

"Diamond trees an' pretty flowers," she crooned softly, battling against her heavy eyelids to stay awake. She did it every time. She never just let the medication sweep her away. "Such a pretty, pretty thing..."

She trailed off, and he thought he lost her for a moment.

"Pretty planet," she exhaled, mouth twisting. "Ugly, ugly people"

His chest tightened at her words.

"With small minds," she continued around another yawn, "and smaller ideas."

Her mouth continued to move but no sound came out as her eyes started to fall shut and she slipped into her drug-induced sleep. He exhaled shakily, and placed his hand gently on her forehead.

* * *

"Home sweet home," the Doctor said, opening the TARDIS doors to the roof of Rose and Zoe's building on the Powell Estate. Normally he parked on the grey courtyard but the thought of Zoe walking up all the stairs in the building made him feel exhausted. "Ah. It's raining. Great. Is it summer? Hold on, ladies, let me just check."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you think he'd be better at this."

"Apparently it's difficult to pilot with just one person," Zoe replied, mouth curving into a small smile that pleased Rose.

"Both of you are horrible," the Doctor said cheerily although he was personally dreading the visit. He popped up behind them like a Jack-in-the-box, and Rose grinned at him. Zoe raised her eyebrows, her body leaning heavily against the door but she was trying not to show how weak she was feeling. "We're in the right place. It's just bad weather. Trust Britain to have rain in the summer."

"You going to melt, Doctor?" Zoe asked him, taking his offered arm with quiet gratitude, and they left the TARDIS.

"Possibly," he sniffed, and she looked away, amused.

It was only a fine drizzle but it did make the estate look uglier than normal, coating it in a grey haze. Still, it was nice to be home. She breathed in deeply and felt the exhaustion pulse through her, tumbling over her aches and pains. She was exhausted from walking the few steps it took her to get to the bathroom. She was exhausted from eating the food that was placed in front of her. She was exhausted from turning the pages of her book. She was exhausted from breathing. Everything made her feel so impossibly tired that she was exhausted from being exhausted.

The one thing that exhausted her the most though were her nightmares.

They made her twist and turn in the middle of the night, contorting her abused body and pulling at her spine as she stretched against the shadow of pain that tormented her. She always woke with a scream ripping out of her throat, her body drenched in sweat. The Doctor was always there to help steady her mind afterwards but her body still throbbed from the torment that her mind put her through each night. It was just flashes of memory – a burst of heat that seared her skin; the tightening of cuffs around her wrists and ankles – just small flashes but enough to send the terror racing through her.

The Doctor sat by her bed the night before, his hand in hers, and had gently let her know that when she stopped taking her medication her nightmares were probably going to increase in intensity and duration. A spike of fear had lanced through her and her fingers reflexively tightened around his but he promised her, in that sincere way that only he could pull off, that he would help her through them if she let him. She didn't like the thought of vocalising what happened to her in her sleep. It was bad enough that it crept up on her during her waking hours – in the middle of a conversation with Rose or when she stood under the spray of the shower – the thought of having to speak about it made her stomach churn. The Doctor carefully suggested going to see a therapist because _it helps to talk, it always helps to talk._ He knew someone that he could take her to see if she wanted to go down that route.

She wondered whether he had spoken to anyone after Gallifrey burned. She didn't imagine he had. He didn't seem to be the type of person to help himself in the way that he helped others.

Rose pushed open the door to the flat. "Mum, we're home!"

"An' on time too!" Jackie exclaimed happily, Rose moving forward to meet her with a tight hug so as to give Zoe a few extra seconds. "Oh, darlin', it's good to see you. I've missed you. C'mon, get in, get in, I want to see –"

Jackie fell silent when she set eyes on Zoe who looked, to someone who had not seen her since her experience, objectively awful. Her hair was shorn, her face hollow, dark circles beneath her eyes, and her body leaned against the Doctor as though he was the only thing holding her up.

"Hi, Mum," Zoe said, raising a hand to waggle her fingers. She let her hand drop through the silence.

Jackie stared, mouth slack in surprise. "Zoe, sweetheart, what happened?"

"I'm fine, Mum, don't fret," she said softly, pushing away from the Doctor and moving forward with unsteady footsteps. Jackie met her and folded her into her embrace, her arms gentle as her eyes met the Doctor's over her shoulder and flashed with anger.

The Doctor looked down at his feet.

Rose cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I'll – er – I'll put the kettle on, shall I?"

It took a while to tell Jackie what had happened as both of her daughters were hesitant to come outright and tell her the truth. She wasn't an idiot though, at least not when it came to her daughters. She heard the words they didn't say. She saw the grey pallor of Zoe's face and took in the way her hands trembled slightly as she held her cup of tea and came to the conclusion that the Doctor was to blame.

His ears were still ringing with the slap that she had given him. His jaw ached and his skin felt as though it was still on fire. He relegated himself to the kitchen after Rose made certain that Jackie was unlikely to actually kill him; he thought that it was best not to be alone with her for a while. He could have left the flat and gone back to the TARDIS but he was reluctant to be out of shouting distance in case Zoe needed him. He busied himself with fixing Jackie's washing machine. In one of her phone calls with Zoe, she had mentioned that it had been running funny lately. If it also made her feel a little less inclined to not slap him again then he would be satisfied with that.

Rose had left to visit with Shareen and to give Jackie and Zoe some time alone. As he stuck his arm up around the back of the washing machine, he picked up the sounds of Jackie and Zoe talking softly in the other room. The worry and fear that laced Jackie's voice made him feel sick, his mouth going slick with bile.

"Why don't you stay home, huh?" Jackie suggested gently. The Doctor easily imagined her stroking her palm over the short stubble on Zoe's head. "You've already done your explorin', seen all sorts of things. So why don't you just come home? Keep your old mum company."

"You're not old, Mum," Zoe said quietly, a soft sigh slipping from her mouth. "An' I don't want to."

A tight knot of tension that had existed in the Doctor's chest since he had seen her slumped naked in her cell eased so quickly that he felt breathless and light headed. He hadn't realised how terrified he was of the prospect of her wanting to leave. It had happened before: companions, _friends_ , who had left because his life was hard and sometimes – too often – dark. He remembered Tegan walking away from him in the dark basement: _it's not fun any more, Doctor_. He knew Zoe would leave. They all did eventually. He just wanted it to be when she was good and ready, not because he had messed up and ruined her life. Yet between him yelling at her after Thanatos and then the Dalek in Utah and now Tolandra, he wouldn't have been surprised if she had wanted to leave. She had had a rougher deal than his friends usually got when they first came onboard.

"But –" he recognised Jackie's exasperated tone of voice as one he'd used on his children often enough over the centuries. The memory made his mouth twist into a sad smile.

"I know you don't get it," Zoe said. "I don't really get it either. All I know is that this is somethin' I have to do."

"You've been tortured," Jackie said, low and angry. "Don't think I don't know that. You lot can weave whatever story you think I want to hear but I'm not stupid, love."

"I've never thought you were."

"What is it about _that man_ that drives my daughters batty?" She demanded, frustration seeping into her very being. Prone against the washing machine, the Doctor held impossibly still for Zoe's response, his arm slowly turning numb.

"He's a good man, Mum," she said, lightly amused. "You'd know that if you stopped slappin' him for five minutes." Jackie huffed. "An' it's not him, not really. It's more...it's more his life, the way he lives for every moment. He doesn't waste a single second and it's – it's amazin'. I didn't know it was possible to live so much."

There was a beat of silence. "Is it still amazin' when it's bad?"

"God no," Zoe said without missing a beat. "It fuckin' sucks then." Jackie snorted with laughter while a grin flashed across the Doctor's face. "But it sucks less than it's amazin'. If it starts to go the other way – if it starts to suck more – then I'll think about comin' home, but right now? Right now, I'm good."

"Well," Jackie sighed. "I always thought you were a little cracked in the head."

"Gotta take after you somehow," Zoe said before - " _ow_!"

* * *

They stayed with Jackie for a week.

Or rather Rose and Zoe stayed with Jackie for a week. The Doctor stayed in the TARDIS for fear of finding himself alone with Jackie Tyler. Without Rose or Zoe to run interference, he was afraid that she might force a regeneration on him and - big ears aside - he was fond of his current body. He did appear at the end of every night to help Zoe back to the TARDIS. She slept a grand total of three hours in her mother's flat before she woke up screaming, and it was decided all around that sleeping in the TARDIS was better for everyone as Jackie didn't need another noise complaint.

The Doctor made the mistake of asking about the first noise complaint.

"I got myself a new boyfriend," Jackie said with a grin. "'S name's Howard. He sells fruit down at the market."

"What does that have to do with a noise complaint?"

Jackie laughed, and he didn't like it. "Don't know how I thought you were some sex pervert. Pure as snow you, honestly."

It took him longer than he would have liked to understand what she was getting at; it was a combination of Rose's red-faced amusement and Zoe shaking with laughter in his arms that he realised what she meant. He looked disgusted.

"Hell, Jackie!" He exclaimed, horrified as his ears burned red. "I don't want to know that!"

She shrugged carelessly, eyes glittering with amusement. "You asked."

"And now I'm going to have to bleach my brain, thanks," he scowled, hands gentle with Zoe. Jackie looked far too pleased with herself as they left the flat.

Once making sure that Zoe was in safe hands, Rose disappeared to spend a week with her friends. She went out at night and spent the morning and early afternoon nursing a hangover, trying to wheedle someone into making her a cooked breakfast. Jackie surrendered only once and then set about making as much noise as possible until Rose retired to the sofa in defeat. It was rinse and repeat every night. As Mickey was off somewhere for a lads holiday - the Doctor hadn't paid that much attention - he spent most of his time tinkering in the TARDIS and fussing over Zoe.

"He's like a mother hen, that one," Jackie said when he slipped out of the living room after having draped a blanket over Zoe's lap and left her with a fresh pot of tea - her favourite blend from 14th century China.

"He just worries," Zoe said as the front door shut behind him.

Once, when Jackie had to work - she was doing a zero-contract job at the hairdressers, and she had to be ready to work whenever they called - he took her out in Bessie. The look on her face when he drove his beloved open-top yellow car out of the TARDIS was worth the trouble of unearthing her. He took her to parts of London even she had never seen - dismissed as too expensive or too touristic. Her strength climbed back into her with a combination of fresh air, her mother's cooking, and long naps in the middle of the day, so she was able to enjoy their day out.

All in all, it was a nice interlude after the horror of Tolandra.

It was the morning of August 17th that everyone was looking forward to as that was A - results day.

The plan was for Zoe to collect her results, everyone to celebrate, and for them to then leave the next morning so long as everything went according to plan, which was always an uncertainty when it came to them. The Doctor drove Zoe to her college and waited for her in the car as she walked under her own strength with her rainbow cane at her side. He waited thirty minutes for her, examining Ian Chesterton's name on the front of the school with interest, and just as he was starting to worry she had collapsed somewhere he saw her emerge from the building. He resisted the urge to leap out and help her. He suspected he was one good intentioned arm offer away from being impaled on her cane. However, he did lean over and open the door for her, looking closely at her face for signs of her results.

"Well?" He asked her. "Do we celebrate? Do we need to go back in time so you can sit them again?"

"I thought you said crossing your own personal timeline is a strict no-no."

He smiled. "It is, but I'll make an exception for you. Just this once, mind."

She looked pleased at that. "Maybe I'll take you up on it, but I haven't actually opened them yet."

"Why not?" He asked, surprised. "You want your mum and Rose here?"

She shook her head. "Just nervous, I s'pose...which is stupid. It's not like these mean everythin' to me any more. Not after everythin' I've seen over the last few months, but..."

"But they're still important to you," the Doctor finished. "It makes sense. You've worked hard for them. Go on. Open it up."

She paused over the envelope with her name neatly printed on the front.

"What if I've failed everythin'?" She asked abruptly, allowing her worry to shine through because she knew he wouldn't tease her for it.

"Then you take them again," he said simply.

She didn't seem to hear him.

"God, what was I thinkin'?" She moaned. "I'm just a stupid chav from the estate. I shouldn't have got above myself. Mum warned me -"

He sucked his finger in his mouth and then stuck it into her ear. She yelped and recoiled from him. She stared at him in horror.

"What the fuck, Doctor?"

"You're not a stupid chav from the estate," he said sternly. "And you've not got above yourself. You're pursuing an education and that is a worthwhile endeavour for anyone regardless of their socio-economic background. Now open your results."

"Jesus," she muttered, shoulders around her ears and eyes darting warily towards him, but she slid her finger beneath the seal anyway. "Strict teacher on Gallifrey, were you?"

The Doctor just rolled his eyes towards the clear blue sky whilst trying not to smile.

There was a long silence and he glanced over at her. She had unfolded the paper within and was reading her results with her mouth slightly opened, lips twitching with the words on the page in front of her. She blinked and without saying a word she held the sheet of paper out to him and he took it. He didn't understand a few of the things written as Susan had never sat her A-Levels, but he was able to divine their general meaning from context so he cast his eyes over what he did understand.

 **Further Mathematics** **A**

 **Modern History A**

 **English Literature A**

 **French A**

 **Biology A**

"Zoe!" The Doctor beamed from ear to ear, looking over at her slumped in her seat with her cane between her knees and her hands over her eyes. "These are fantastic!"

She groaned, looking simultaneously relieved and sick to her stomach. She uncovered her eyes.

"I did it," she said, sounding punch drunk. "I actually did it."

He smiled a deeply fond and affectionate smile. "You did. C'mere."

She spilled over Bessie's handbrake and gear stick to sink into his arms. He hugged her tightly, making the most of it because he knew that she would one day leave him and he wanted to remember every moment of being able to celebrate something important with her. He rubbed his cheek over her soft stubble and drew a laugh from her. She pulled back and wiped at her eyes self-consciously.

She rapped him lightly on the thigh.

"C'mon then," she said. "Let's go home. Mum'll be thrilled."

Thrilled was an understatement.

Jackie let out a scream of delight that had the neighbours banging on the walls and Rose clapping her hands over her ears, being unfortunate enough to be standing right next to her at the time of the explosion. She kept tight hold of Zoe's results - _I'm goin' to frame them! Yes, I am! Put 'em right on the wall next to your baby pictures!_ \- hugged her daughter so tightly that Zoe thought her eyes would fall out before she leapt onto the phone to call everyone in her phone book starting with Bev.

The three of them watched her with varying degrees of amusement before the Doctor looked down at Zoe.

"Fish and chips?" He offered, and her face lit up.

"Ooo, yes, please," she said. "Extra everythin'."

"Extra everything, coming right up."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Zoe approached the Doctor three weeks after coming off her medication. He was in the library with his feet propped up on the table in front of him fixing a piece of machinery that she didn't recognise. She just hoped it wasn't the toaster again. Rose hadn't quite forgiven him for the flames that had singed her eyebrows off when she only wanted some toast for breakfast.

They had had a busy but gentle month and a half of purely non-strenuous sight seeing, and Zoe felt the strength seeping back into her body. They visited markets where she got to try the food; huge swathes of natural land that Rose painted; sky cities; and inter-galactic centres of politics. Rose found a book in the library of the 1001 tourist destinations to visit before you die in what Zoe took to calling the Alpha Quadrant simply because she couldn't pronounce the name of the sector of galaxy and also liked annoying the Doctor with constant Star Trek references. They were slowly working their way through the book as Zoe's list had taken a back seat after the disaster that was Tolandra.

As predicted, her nightmares got worse without the medication to numb her mind.

Whilst her body was healing, her mind remained trapped in the trauma of what she had experienced. She woke up every night screaming, and the Doctor took to lying stretched out next to her like a protective cat so that she could cling to him in her sleep. It wasn't a permanent situation, and Zoe knew it needed to change; it just took her three weeks to accept that she was the one who needed to make the change as the Doctor wouldn't force help on her although he clearly wanted to. The one time he bought it up after she had come off her medication, she started to cry and locked herself in her bathroom until he promised not to mention it again.

It wasn't her finest moment.

He looked up at the sound of her approach and gave her a genuine smile - not the big, wide toothy one that he used when he was hiding something but the soft one that made her insides melt.

"Hello," he greeted with a warmth that she enjoyed.

She liked coming across him in his down time as he felt homey and warm and always seemed happy to see her.

"Hi," she said, pulling at the edges of her sleeves. "What are you workin' on?"

"I don't actually know," he said, looking at the piece of technology in his hands. "I found it under my bed. Thought if I poked at it, it'd work."

"That sounds...safe," she said uncertainly, but he just tossed it to one side so it bounced off a bright orange cushion.

"What's up?" He asked her, tilting his head back to look at her.

"What makes you think something's up?" She hedged and realised she had given the game away. _Damn_. "Never mind. I - er - I think your suggestion of, y'know, talkin' to someone might not be a bad idea after all."

His face went through a series of emotions - relief, happiness, grief, and a bone-weary sadness that she was in the position of having to ask for help. All of it eventually gave way to a quiet, relieved happiness that sank into his features and made him look his age. She tried not to squirm beneath his look of fond affection, his eyes resting on her. His broad shoulders drooped as he sighed a large breath.

Feeling awkward looming over him – like a child coming to a parent for help – she took a seat on the edge of the coffee table.

"Really?" The Doctor asked her, and she nodded. He rubbed his palms over the thighs of his jeans. "That's great. Really great. And a bit of a relief, to be honest. I wasn't sure how much more I could help you. I've been making it up as we've been going along."

She knew that but it made her smile anyway. "You do it brilliantly."

"Oh, dear." He clucked his tongue with a slight laugh. "You must be feeling bad if you're complimenting me."

"I compliment you," she said, a little offended.

"Not as often as this old man likes to hear it," he said. She shook her head, rolling her eyes at him even as a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

He looked her over with a kind eye and took in the dark smudges beneath her eyes that she had given up trying to conceal with make-up because he lay next to her every night and knew when she was getting enough sleep and when she wasn't, so why bother hiding it?

Her hair was slowly growing back in – Rose happily massaged some special shampoo that smelt like bananas into her scalp every other night – and instead of the usual growth of 1.5cm that human hair tended to grow every month, she had a nice 3cm of hair on the top of her head. It was just enough that she was able style it so that it looked deliberate rather than forced. He quite liked her hair short but he knew better than to admit that to her as it was a very sensitive subject for her. Still, despite her hair growth, she looked tired and thin and had started to get a pinched look around her mouth that he didn't like the look of.

"I know this great person," the Doctor said. "They specialise in your type of trauma. They actually set up their practice in the aftermath of a civil war on their planet and so they have a good understanding of... _things_. I spoke to them a while ago and they said to bring you by when you were ready. We can go now, if you like?"

Panic surged through her and her eyes widened. "Now?"

"Will it be any easier if you wait?" He asked knowingly.

"Well, if you're goin' to be all logical about it, probably not."

"Take it from someone who knows," he said gently. "Waiting is just going to make it worse. Don't you lot have a saying - rip off the band aid and everything?"

"That's American English," she replied, "you heathen."

"Plaster, whatever."

He rolled his eyes and rose to his feet in one smooth, graceful move that she envied. He offered his hand to her, and she took it. He pulled her to her feet, and she rose, grumbling all the while.

He let her grumble even as he drew her into him for a hug. Her arms automatically went around his waist, and she rested her forehead against his chest. She could feel the double thrum of his hearts caged within his ribcage, and she let the familiar sound calm her anxious nerves. She knew therapy would be good for her but she was trapped in her early 21st century social conventions that said therapy was for the weak. On the estate, people dealt with their problems by themselves and going to therapy wasn't the thing to do; not only because it was too expensive for them but because talking wasn't how they solved things.

"This is going to be good," he promised her, speaking into the top of her banana scented head. He should probably tell her there were other fragrances but he liked the smell of bananas at night when she was sleeping. "This'll help. I promise."

Her mouth worked as she tried not to cry. "I hope so."

He made a small sound and hugged her tighter.

She hoped he was right because she wasn't sure how much longer she could take the nightmares. Every night she relived what the Tolandrans did to her; every night she woke up with the fear that she was back in her cell and that the Doctor and Rose hadn't come for her after all. Sometimes she dreamt that she was just screaming her innocence into the darkness but no one was listening and no one cared. She tightened her grip on the Doctor before letting go and turning her face so that she could dry her eyes.

"C'mon," he said, offering his hand to her again. "Let's go speak to this therapist and see where we go from there."

She took his hand and nodded. "All right. Let's do it."

"That's the spirit!" He smiled brightly at her, and she couldn't help but laugh.

They walked hand in hand through the TARDIS corridors that reminded her of the staircases at Hogwarts as they were always changing their destinations. Just the other day she had walked down a corridor she was certain led to the kitchen but found herself entering a room that she had never seen before - a room filled with a wild, overgrown garden that she happily got lost in until the Doctor found her up a tree. The three of them proceeded to have a picnic in the garden that even the Doctor hadn't known existed.

"How can you not know you have a garden?" Rose had asked him around a mouthful of chicken salad.

"It's another dimension, Rose," he had replied with with a roll of his eyes. "Do you know everything in your dimension?"

"If I have to sit up to end this argument, neither of you will be happy," Zoe had warned them from where she lay on her back, staring up at the leafy ceiling and both of them had fallen silent.

Zoe wondered if even the Doctor would ever discover the full mysteries of the TARDIS but she doubted it. The TARDIS could be a contrary creature when she wanted to be, and she seemed to delight in teasing her inhabitants. She reckoned the TARDIS liked having her little secrets, not that Zoe blamed her. It must be strange to have people running around inside of her: vulnerable and open. She thought about that as she walked along with the Doctor to the control room. It was a helpful topic to keep her mind off of her impending therapy session even though she knew it would be fine – the waiting and the anticipation was always the worst.

They were only halfway there when the TARDIS suddenly exploded with noise and movement.

Zoe cried out in surprise as the ground disappeared from beneath her feet. She would have slammed into the ground had the Doctor not quickly pulled her in close to his body and caught her around the waist. The lights around them changed from the normal lighting that was purposefully tailored for maximum comfort to an ugly colour that she instinctively disliked. The Doctor stared up at the colour, momentarily forgetting that he held Zoe off the ground with an arm around her waist as her feet tried to touch back down.

"What the hell?" Zoe demanded, trying to squirm out of the Doctor's grip. She knew he was strong but she didn't like the reminder when it involved her entire body being lifted from the ground. "What's goin' on?"

"It's an emergency!"

"Ours?"

"Nope! Someone else's!" He popped the p and dropped her lightly onto her feet.

She had to race to keep up with him, and they dashed into the control room. She slammed into the console instead of slowing down and took hold of the somewhat misnamed safety bar and held on tightly, her knuckles white in the effort to keep herself upright.

Rose bumped against the door frame as she burst into the room. "What's the emergency?"

"It's mauve," the Doctor said from his position examining the readouts, and they made their way over to him.

"Mauve?" Rose asked, confusion painting her face.

His fingers were doing something with the console.

"The universally recognised colour for danger," Zoe explained quickly.

Rose frowned. "What happened to red?"

"That's just humans." He shook his head. "By everyone else's standards, red's theatrical. You wouldn't believe the misunderstandings - all those red alerts, all that dancing." Zoe and Rose exchanged a look both of them thinking the same thing - the Doctor _dancing?_ "Aha! It's got a very basic flight computer. I've hacked in and slaved the TARDIS to it. Where it goes, we go."

Zoe looked hesitant. "This sounds safe."

"Completely."

There was a huge, echoing bang that quickly made the Doctor revise his previous statement.

"Okay, reasonably - I should have said reasonably there," he said, knowing better than to look at Zoe. He burst into action as a result of what the readings were telling him. "No, no, no, no! It's jumping time tracks, getting away from us."

Zoe leaned forward to peer at the screen. "What exactly is this thing?"

"No idea!"

"Then _why_ are we chasing it?"

"It's mauve, dangerous, and about thirty seconds from the centre of London," he said before grabbing a lever. "Hold on!"

One of the side effects of coming off her medication was that her anti-nausea injection had been washed out of her system. Not that it mattered as the Doctor was usually careful with his piloting and she was slowly getting used to travelling in the Vortex. He said it was because the TARDIS liked her and was trying to soften the experience for her, which she appreciated. However, she was not prepared for the rough and tumble path down to Earth. Her stomach rebelled against her late lunch and as soon as the TARDIS landed, Zoe was scrabbling across the floor to yank the doors open and spill the contents of her stomach behind the nearest rubbish bin.

The Doctor and Rose exited in a much calmer fashion.

"Do you know how long you can knock around space without happening to bump into Earth?" He complained, holding the door open so that Rose could pass through in front of him.

"Five days?" She asked, looking around the alley as her sister vomited bent double against a rubbish bin. "Or is that just when we're out of milk?"

He rolled his eyes. "If you would just try jafra milk -"

"It comes out of a cat, Doctor." She reminded him.

"It's not a cat," he said for what felt like the hundredth time but Rose just placed her hands over her ears. He shook his head and moved towards Zoe who was groaning. He settled his hand on her back and rubbed small circles there whilst looking around. "Must have come down somewhere quite close – within a mile, anyway. And it can't have been more than a few weeks ago. Maybe a month."

"A month?" Rose exclaimed. "We were right behind it."

"It was jumping time tracks all over the place. We're bound to be a little bit out." He shrugged. "Do you want to drive?"

"Yeah," she said quickly but after his experience in the hover car with her on Tolandra, there wasn't a chance in hell that he was letting her fly the TARDIS. "How much is a little?"

"A bit."

"Is that exactly a bit?"

"Ish."

"I'm dying over here and the two of you are bein' not at all kind to me," Zoe groaned as she finally straightened up and they looked at her - her face was pale and coated in a thin sheen of sweat. She looked horrible.

"Oh, dear." The Doctor blinked, surprised by the voracity of her motion sickness. "Are you okay?"

 _I hate you_ she mouthed at him, drawing the back of her hand across her mouth and spitting on the ground again. He dug into his pocket and removed the self-cleaning mouth strip he had given her once before. She stuck it into her mouth as she leaned against the wall as she caught her breath. She stole a packet of tissues from his pocket to blow her nose and wipe her face down with.

"In our defence," Rose said looking at her with a slight grin, "you do throw up a lot."

"I'm tradin' you in for a new sister," Zoe replied, plucking the front of her jumper between two fingers and fanning her sweaty body that soon became chilled from the night's cold.

"What's the plan, then?" Rose asked with one eye on her sister, concerned even if she chose not to vocalise it. "Are you goin' to do a scan for alien tech or somethin'?"

"Rose, it hit the middle of London with a very loud bang," the Doctor said long-sufferingly. "I'm going to ask."

"The two of you go and do your thing," Zoe said, a headache beginning to press at her temples. She sighed as she tried to rub it away between her fingertips. "I'm just goin' to stay here an' hope I don't vomit any more."

He frowned at her. "You sure?"

"You don't want this –" she gestured at herself, "comin' with you."

"Good point," he said because she did look very sickly. "Keep an eye on the TARDIS and don't wander off."

She gave him a tiny mock salute before she watched the two of them walk off and only when they disappeared around the corner did Zoe pull a face and press a hand to her stomach. She would have to get the Doctor to give her another anti-nausea injection before they took off again. She knew he was trying to be careful but their lives were unpredictable and apparently the TARDIS liked trouble as much as the Doctor, not that she was surprised – like attracted like and all. That thought crossed her mind with her key in the door and the TARDIS hummed happily, making her smile. She rapped the side of her lovely blue outer with her knuckles.

"I know your game," Zoe said affectionately. "You're a bad influence, you."

If the TARDIS was capable of laughing, it was doing so inside Zoe's mind.

She wiped the back of her arm across her forehead and made her way to the bathroom where she thoroughly brushed her teeth and gargled with mouthwash, trying to chase the taste of vomit out of her mouth. She splashed her face with cold water and pressed her chilled hand against the back of her neck, briefly looking at her reflection in the mirror. She scowled and left her bathroom, changing her clothes so that she wasn't covered in dry sweat. She intended to catch up with the Doctor and Rose once she felt she was less likely to throw up her spleen, not wanting to miss out on whatever trouble the TARDIS had got them into that time, and so she put on some warm clothes.

She left her bedroom feeling marginally better - minty fresh breath and a nose that could no longer only smell vomit went a long way to improving her mood. She wondered why the human body had evolved so that the oesophagus and the airway were right next to each other, it seemed like a huge design flaw. She entered the kitchen and paused at the sight of a fresh cup of ginger tea waiting for her on the table next to a single slice of dry toast - her usual fare after throwing up the contents of her stomach.

"Doctor? Rose?" She called out, reaching to pick up the tea. "You guys back already?"

"I'm not the Doctor...or Rose."

Zoe started so violently that she knocked the cup of tea from the table. It shattered into pieces under the chair but she paid no attention to it. Her heart hammered violently in her chest, and she worried that she couldn't breathe for a long moment for standing in the corner of the kitchen watching her carefully was... _herself_?

"What - the – fuck?"

"Yeah, I know," other Zoe said with a lopsided grin as she stepped out of the corner and into the light of the kitchen so that she could be seen better. "It's a bit of a head spin. I remember how I felt."

Zoe just stared at her with wide eyes and a slack mouth. "Who are you?"

"I'm you," other Zoe said with an easy smile. "Well...technically I'm you in a few years - more or less. I'm from the future. Your future."

"You're me?" She repeated, bewilderment coursing through her. She looked around as though expecting the Doctor to leap out of a cupboard and yell surprise. She doubted he even knew what a practical joke was though as he was so old. She had a lot of questions pounding through her mind at that moment but only one came to the forefront of her mind. "How is this not causin' a paradox?"

"We're complicated events in time and space." Other Zoe said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Honestly, temporal mechanics gives me a headache, so it's just easier to accept that the TARDIS keeps everything as it should be."

Zoe blinked at her. It was, by far, the strangest thing that had ever happened to her and she lived in an alien space ship that travelled through time.

"Right..." she said slowly whilst her heart rate began to return to normal. "Should I be worried that this is the sign of the apocalypse or somethin'?"

"No, no," other Zoe said, moving around her to make her a fresh cup of ginger tea. She held it out to her. "Here, drink this. I remember how sick we used to get. The travel sickness goes away eventually...you get used to the rhythm."

"Good to know," she replied, taking the cup from her and sniffing it suspiciously.

It smelt like ginger tea.

"It'd be a bit self-defeating to poison myself," other Zoe said with a roll of her eyes and, a little embarrassed, Zoe took a large mouthful of the tea. She burnt the top of her mouth but felt better for it as it helped to chase the nausea away.

"If this isn't a universe endin' thing," Zoe said cautiously, "an' no one's in danger...then why are you here?"

"I'm closing the circle, if you will," she said, sitting down in a chair as though she belonged there - Zoe figured that she probably did. Years into the future she had said - Zoe didn't intend on staying aboard the TARDIS that long but there was living, breathing proof in front of her that she did.

She couldn't help but stare.

Her future self seemed taller, and maybe she was - it wasn't as though she had stopped growing yet -, and more beautiful. Her hair was back to its usual length; it was full and curly around her face, although she kept pushing it back as though it annoyed her. She wore a pair of tight navy blue trousers, white slips ons, and a grey polo neck beneath a gorgeous knee length coat that she wanted desperately. She sounded different too. The rough London edge of her accent with dropped g's and d's was smoothed away; she sounded elegant and ever-so-slightly fancy. Aware of her curious gaze, and of every thought that passed through her mind, Other Zoe waited patiently.

"The circle?" She finally asked, taking a seat because if there was one thing she knew from her life in the TARDIS, it was that weird was part of the job - and it wasn't as though she didn't talk to herself anyway. "What circle?"

"The circle that starts today," other Zoe replied, pushing the toast closer towards her younger self with a silent command to _eat_. She picked it up and nibbled on it. "A while ago, and I won't say how long, I was in your position. Apparently, you and I are supposed to switch places today. I'm going to catch up with the Doctor and Rose, and you're going to walk down the end of the street and turn right."

"What happens when I turn right?"

"You'll find out," she said with a smile. Zoe noticed that her teeth were very white. "Don't be alarmed though, you're going to catch up with the Doctor. My Doctor, I suppose. He's expecting me so he's going to be a little surprised to see you but he's going to get onboard quickly, so don't worry about that. He's a bit different from how you know him though, but remember that he's still the same Doctor you blew up Downing Street with."

"What do you mean different?" Zoe asked cautiously.

"You'll find out."

"That's not very comforting."

"No, it's not, I know," other Zoe laughed before shifting in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Right, so rules, you need some rules."

"Do I?"

"Yep," she replied, and she sounded so much like the Doctor for a second that it threw Zoe completely. "This is your first time dealing with the future - your personal future, that is -"

"Wait, first time?" Zoe interrupted incredulously. "How often does this happen?"

"More often than you think, but less often than you're imagining right now," other Zoe said. "As I was saying, since this is your first time there are rules so pay attention. One, try to avoid spoilers for your future – I know that's going to be difficult because of certain reasons but do your best. The Doctor will try to keep you away from major plot points but, well, he's a bit useless at that."

The fondness in her voice when she spoke of the Doctor was tangible, and Zoe felt a little embarrassed to be witness to it.

"Two, any information you learn during this time must be kept to yourself until your experience syncs with the Doctor you're about to meet because, again, he's useless. Three..." she stopped and blinked. "Well, okay, there is no three. One and two pretty much cover it. Got it?"

"Don't ask questions, shut up later, and the Doctor is useless?" Zoe paraphrased.

"Exactly," other Zoe said with a grin. "How do you feel?"

"Like this is a dream."

"Good enough," she replied with a brisk nod. "You might want to put on a coat. It's January out there...and the Blitz."

"The Blitz?"

"The London Blitz," other Zoe said. "It's January 1941, height of the German bombing bombardment on London."

"Oh, bloody hell," Zoe swore, her face falling into lines of exasperation. "I swear to God the Doctor does this on purpose. Would it kill him to look at the date an' location _before_ he lands?"

"You'll be having that argument with him for years," her future self laughed cheerfully as she stood up from her seat. "So, finish your tea and toast, grab a coat, and turn right at the corner in exactly ten minutes."

"Wait - years?" Zoe stopped her from leaving by jumping to her feet; other Zoe was definitely taller. "The plan was always one or two. What happened?"

"Spoilers, Zoe," she replied with an enigmatic smile.

"No, wait, you can't -" she felt frustration reach up her throat. "You can't just come here an' tell me these things an' expect me to do as you say without any explanation. Give me somethin' at least."

"Like what?" She asked although she must know exactly what would work to placate her past self.

"You were me!" Zoe exclaimed. "You tell me!"

Other Zoe sighed, her nostrils flaring with irritation. "Fine. One thing and then that's it, you understand?"

"Absolutely."

"We go to university," other Zoe said. "And we get our degree."

"We do?"

"We do."

Zoe felt a smile rise across her face like the sun peeking out across the hills. "What do we -?"

"Ah!" Other Zoe warned her with a raised finger. "We agreed one question. No more."

She frowned but agreed. "Fine. Right."

"Good," other Zoe said. "Now get your coat and be at the end of the street in ten minutes."

"Why ten minutes?"

"Because that's what I was told when I was in your position," she said, hands sweeping out to tidy the kitchen table automatically, depositing the tea mug and plate in the sink. "And remember - he's still the Doctor."

"You keep sayin' that," she pointed out, "why wouldn't I think he's the Doctor?"

"You'll find out."

"Are we always this infuriating in the future?" Zoe asked, annoyed at her future self who paused to give it some thought

"You know, some people have told us that yes, we are," she admitted before smiling charmingly. "But we do it brilliantly. We won't see each other again when this is over sogood luck, have fun, and don't cause the universe to explode with a paradox."

Apparently she was doing this. "You too, I guess."

"That's the wartime spirit!" Other Zoe said, walking out the door and throwing up Churchill's sign for victory. "Keep buggering on, Zo!"

Zoe dropped her head back and stared up at the ceiling. "My life is really fuckin' weird."

The TARDIS laughed in her mind again.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

Zoe spent nine of her ten minutes wondering whether or not she should simply call the Doctor and tell him what was happening. She sat on the jump seat in a coat that she had pulled on _just in case_ and tapped her phone against her thigh with his name ready on the screen. In the end, and despite her apprehension about what lay ahead of her - and really, if it was dangerous then she supposed that the Doctor would take one look at Future Zoe and come running for her as he was more overprotective than before because of Tolandra - she still turned right at the corner exactly ten minutes later. She was wearing a warm grey coat and a matching beanie pulled down over her hair, covering her ears. An old-fashioned black car pulled up in front of her moments later; a uniformed officer stepped out from the driver's seat and offered her a sharp salute.

"Professor Tyler."

She looked behind her before realising that the soldier was addressing her. Her eyebrows shot up under her hat.

 _Professor_ Tyler.

She supposed that was what Future Zoe meant about spoilers and, as far as spoilers went, she liked it. She wondered what she taught and why she was still travelling with the Doctor if she had a job - maybe he stopped by once a month and they went on wild adventures together. She could see that sort of arrangement working for them; it would definitely work out better than the Doctor popping around for Sunday lunch because he did not do domestics and she didn't have the patience to deal with his fidgeting sulkiness at being temporarily domesticated.

"That would be me," Zoe said awkwardly. "Hello."

"Ma'am, if you'll come with me, the Prime Minister is waiting for you." He opened the door to the back of the car and her legs felt like jelly as she scrambled into the back seat more ungracefully than she would have liked.

The Prime Minister in 1941 was Winston Churchill.

Winston Churchill was waiting for her.

She put her mouth into her palms under the pretence of warming them, and she managed to muffle a scream before the officer got into the driver's seat.

London was suffering under heavy bombardment from the German Luftwaffe. No cars should be out on the streets of London at all, but it appeared that she was deemed important enough to risk it. The officer drove them neatly and efficiently through the deserted streets with the headlights off, and she recognised the route that he was taking. He wasn't taking her to Downing Street – it wasn't going to be a repeat of the last time she was taken to the meet with British politicians – but rather he was taking her to the Cabinet War Rooms. Their location in 1941 was highly classified and buried deep beneath London. In her time however, she had gone on a school trip around them for her history A-level.

Due to the lack of traffic they made it there in record time. Zoe tried not to press her face against the window like some sort of time tourist when she realised that there were blimps in the sky. Actual blimps. Blimps fascinated her as a method of transport. She would have to put it down on her list although, knowing her luck, the Doctor would probably accidentally take them to the Hindenburg. The officer escorted her from the car and through the busy tunnels where everyone was moving rapidly but in a very British manner – it was stoicism and stiff upper lip at its finest. She felt wildly underdressed in her jumper, jeans, and boots as everyone else was wearing finely starched military uniforms.

The officer pushed open a door and a voice rose above all the others, but she only caught the tail end of it.

"...she's like, she'd hate to miss any of it." The voice belonged to a tall man with hair that seemed to flop in every direction when he moved; his body also seemed incapable of remaining still. "Don't know where she's gone, to be honest. It's all _give me a moment, stop nagging, I've got something to do_ but no explanation. Women, y'know?"

He looked to the red head at his side who was dressed in clothes Zoe did recognise but were just as out of place as her own were. The red head just shook her head.

"No need to wait any longer," Winston Churchill said, and Zoe's heart and stomach did something funny in her body. She hoped she didn't pass out. "Professor Tyler! A pleasure to see you again!"

"You're Winston Churchill," Zoe said, and her tongue felt too big for her mouth. The man with the ridiculous hair did a sharp double take at the sight of her. "As in _Winston_ – _Churchill_."

Churchill looked slightly taken aback. "Well, yes, my dear. We've met many times."

"Nope, nu-uh, never." She shook her head with wide eyes. She knew she had to explain but it was difficult to find the words. She stumbled on them eventually. "I'm a time traveller. Sometimes things don't happen in the right order although, if I'm being 100% honest, this is the first time that's happened so I have no idea what's going on but - wow. It's really you. Can I get a picture with you?"

She was trying to dig her phone out of her pocket when the man with the hair took her by the arm.

"Winston, I need a moment," he said firmly. "Pond...just stay there."

"What -?" The woman, _Pond_ , started with confusion written across every inch of her face.

The man with the hair gently but firmly hauled her off into a supply closet and locked the door behind them before popping the overhead light on – a single bulb bobbed between them before it tapped him on the head. She stared up at him; he was tall and handsome in an unconventional way with a little too much nose and chin but sharp cheekbones and truly lovely hair even if it was clearly ridiculous. He was also looking at her as though she was a ghost.

She brushed his hand off her arm.

"All right, mate," she said. She was her mother's daughter and ready to start slapping if she needed to. "Don't think I won't punch you."

"What the hell are you doing here?" The man flapped at her, a little limited by the space and he smacked his hand against the concrete wall before he drew his knuckles to his mouth and sucked on them with a confused expression.

"Don't know," she shrugged, feeling calmer than she should given everything. "I was told to turn right at the end of an alley an' next thing I know there's an officer pickin' me up in a car to bring me here. I don't suppose you know why people keep callin' me Professor Tyler, do you?"

"You're a professor now," he said automatically before his eyes went wide. "Wait! No! Spoilers!"

"Who are you anyway?" She asked, not feeling the usual surge of fear at being around strangers without the Doctor or Rose. She wondered why she wasn't reacting more strongly to a strange man hauling her into a closet and locking them in it. "An' that girl out there? She's definitely not from 1941, not with the length of that skirt of hers."

He slapped himself on the forehead. "New face! Of course. I keep forgetting."

"You keep forgettin' your own face?"

"It happens more often than you'd think," he said. "It's me. The Doctor."

Her eyes narrowed. "Bullshit."

"No, it really is," he said, and he took her hand and pressed it against his chest before she could pull it back. The double beat of his heart was there. "See?"

Her eyes flicked from his chest to his face and then back again.

"No," she said. "You're havin' me on."

"Okay," he tried again, "the first time we met, Zoe Tyler, was the day I brought Rose home. I thought it was only twelve hours later but it was actually a year. Your mum slapped me and you threatened to push me off the top of your building on the Powell Estate and then run me over with a car. We then watched an alien space ship crash into the Thames, and you spoke to me about time travel in your mum's living room. The first time you stepped inside the TARDIS you said that she was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. Then you proceeded to throw up in my umbrella stand because -"

"Oh my god, it's you," Zoe gaped, interrupting the stream of words. He smiled at her, honest and true.

"It's me," he said, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

She reached for him and pressed one hand against his chest and used the other to lightly touch his face. The warmth of his skin was familiar - slightly cooler to the touch than a human but comforting just the same. He leaned into her touch like a puppy getting its ears scratched.

"How -? How is this possible?" She asked, breathless with wonder and confusion. "Your face...your body...it's completely different."

"A trick of my people," the Doctor said, covering her hand on his chest with his own. "I'll explain it to you but not now. Now, I need to get you back to your Doctor."

She shook her head. "Other me – _future_ me – she's with him. She said something about closin' the circle."

He sighed and pinched his nose with his free hand. "Of course. I'd almost forgotten."

"Forgotten what?"

"Years ago..." he said, dropping his hand to the small of her back as though he normally put his hand there. "I was taken very much by surprise when I ran into a future version of yourself outside of an evening club during the middle of the Blitz. You assured me that your younger self – in this case you – was safe inside the TARDIS."

"Probably knew you'd come running after me otherwise," Zoe said knowingly, and he smiled down at her, filling her with warmth.

"I'll always run after you," he promised her, and her cheeks flooded with heat. He reached up and gently tugged her hat off, taking in her shorter hair. "Remind me, how long is this after Tolandra for you?"

"Nearly two months," she said, reaching for her hat but he kept it out of her reach.

He gently smoothed his palm over the top of her head before kissing it. The fondness he felt for her was palpable and the closet suddenly felt that much smaller.

"It won't take long for your hair to grow back."

"Good," she said, feeling so comfortable and at ease with him. Part of her wanted to snuggle down into his embrace and stay there but she didn't know why. "Tell me somethin'."

He looked a little wary. "Okay?"

"The therapy I want to take..." she started uncertainly. "Does it help?"

His face relaxed. "Yes, it does."

"Okay. Good." She smiled before reaching up to tug on his hair lightly. "You have a lot of hair now. I like it. Although you look closer to my age. Couldn't you have gone a little older?"

"It's kind of a roulette, to be honest," he said, letting her run her fingers through his hair with a patient, affectionate smile. "When you get back, you should ask me to show you some pictures of my other faces."

"Other faces?" She asked surprised. "How many have you had?"

"The me you're travelling with," the Doctor said, "that's number nine...well, ten, kind of. It's complicated."

"Ten faces." She stared at him in wonder. "You're mad."

"Not the first time you've told me that."

She laughed and gently tapped his chin. "What about this one? What number's this?"

"That -" he booped her nose gently, "is a spoiler."

"I'm pretty sure I'm about to walk into a future of spoilers," she pointed out, "what's one more?"

"You're absolutely not getting me that way," he said, and she gave a shrug as though to say _I tried._ "Well, since you're here and sticking around, what do you say we go and see what old Winston wants?"

"Absolutely," Zoe said with a nod, and he went to open the door, his hand still on the small of her back, a pleasant weight through her coat. "Do you think he'll take a picture with me?"

The Doctor laughed and ushered her out.

* * *

Amelia Pond leaned against the wall outside of the closet that the Doctor had pulled the professor into. When it became apparent that the conversation would take longer than a minute, Churchill had bustled off to win his war and Amy was left just getting in everyone's way so she positioned herself outside the closet. Something was wrong with the professor, she knew that much. For one, she was wearing different clothes than when they had landed and she had disappeared without so much as a by-your-leave, which was strange even for her; she also seemed so much younger than before. Zoe Tyler had always been old - or at least significantly older than Amy: the weird alien who dropped out of the sky one night when she was seven in answer to a prayer from Santa.

" _Amelia Pond, do I look like people to you?_ "

Zoe had asked that years and years ago for Amy when she promised to come back one day, tucking her into her bed and stroking the hair from her face after a terrifying adventure. Even now, Amy vividly remembered just how desperately she wanted to go with her - the kind woman who got rid of the voices in her head and the crack in her wall - but she wasn't allowed. Too young, too human _but one day_ Zoe had promised, one day she would come back. For years, Amy hadn't known whether to believe what had happened to her but then, abruptly, Zoe popped back into her life as unexpectedly as the first time. She snapped open the doors of the TARDIS with her fingers and said -

" _Amelia Pond, all of time and space, everything that ever was and ever will be - what do you say? Want to see it?_ "

Yet not ten minutes ago, Zoe had looked right through her.

It was disconcerting and scary.

Amy shifted and the door to the closet opened. The Doctor and Zoe emerged practically on top of each other, and she did not want to think what they had been doing in that closet. She didn't really understand Zoe and the Doctor's relationship. She knew that she could ask. It wasn't as though Zoe had ever minded her asking questions before. When she was seven, she had bombarded her with questions. _Where are you from? Are you an alien? How come you have a space ship? Is the moon made of cheese?_ And all sorts of nonsensical things that helped her stop thinking about how afraid she was. Yet she hesitated when it came to asking about Zoe and the Doctor's relationship. It was hard for Amy to shake the fact that she felt like she was still seven around Zoe. It was easier with the Doctor, but Zoe had been her imaginary friend all throughout her childhood. Amy didn't think people spoke to their imaginary friends about their love lives. She was sure she would figure it out at some point.

"Ah, Pond, good!" The Doctor said upon seeing her. "Where's Winston?"

"He said to have someone call him when you're ready," Amy answered, looking to Zoe who looked impossibly young with her short hair. There was something painfully human about her. "Are you okay, professor?"

Amy watched the Doctor poked her in the side to get her to respond to the form of address, and Zoe smiled at her - not the fond smile that made her eyes crinkle and Amy feel warm down to her marrow, but a polite one that was given to strangers. Something hurt in Amy's chest.

"Yes, fine, thank you. A little -" she see-sawed her hand in front of her. "I'm sorry though, but I don't know who you are."

The thing that hurt gave a powerful throb. Her eyes darted to the Doctor who was useless as he was brushing a cobweb from Zoe's shoulder contentedly.

"You've known me all my life," she said, wishing she didn't sound so upset.

"Have I?"

"She's not the Zoe Tyler you know," the Doctor explained, removing his hand from the cobweb-free shoulder. "She's from an earlier point in her timeline, years before she met you. This Zoe is only - what is it?" He wet his finger and stuck it in her ear. She yelped and pulled away from him, a horrified expression on her face. "Seventeen."

Zoe scrubbed at her ear and scowled. "You could have just asked."

"Seventeen?" Amy repeated, stunned. She was certain she looked as though she had been hit in the face with a brick. "But you're -" the Doctor cleared his throat warningly. "That's so young."

"Oh, come on," Zoe protested, cautiously lowering her sleeve as though afraid the Doctor was going to stick his finger in her ear again. "I can't be that much older than I am now. Late twenties at a push from what I saw."

Amy made a choking sound in her throat and looked to the ceiling while the Doctor quickly stepped in to divert the conversation.

"Zoe, this is Amelia Pond," he introduced. "She's a friend, and she's travelling with us right now."

"Amelia Pond," Zoe repeated with a slow smile. "That sounds like a fairytale."

Amy pressed her hand over her eyes at the repeat of her childhood.

Zoe looked around as though expecting someone else to be there.

"Where's Rose?" She asked curiously. "Is she around? Oh my god, what does Rose look like right now?"

"Who's Rose?" Amy asked, lowering her hand from her eyes and just deciding to accept the strangeness that was the situation. As it turned out, it was the worst possible thing she could have said because Zoe whipped around to look at the Doctor with wide eyes.

"Who's Rose?" She repeated incredulously. "Who's Rose?"

"It's fine - will you please lower your voice?" The Doctor asked, eyes darting around, his ears started to turn pink. Even though there was no one else in the corridor, he seemed embarrassed. "Rose is with Jackie at the moment, and can we all please stop asking questions because this is all very bad and possibly extremely not good. Amy, Zoe is at the very, very start of travelling in the TARDIS. She's only been travelling with me for six months -"

"Four," she interrupted with a grumble at being told, effectively, to shut up. "If we're roundin' up."

"Four months," he continued without missing a beat. Amy just stared at her, not comprehending the fact that Zoe hadn't always been in the TARDIS. "You need to be very careful not to give her any spoilers for the future. Any knowledge can have very bad effects on her life, and I don't want to change anything. Zoe...just - just trust me. Everyone's fine. They're just...not here - for reasons."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Reasons?"

"Yes, reasons," he repeated decidedly. "Human reasons."

"Human reasons?" Her voice was even more disbelieving. He sighed heavily, blowing his cheeks out.

"Blimey, I'd forgotten how much work you were young." He complained before grabbing their hands to prevent her from saying anything else or starting an argument in the heart of the British war effort. "Come on, you two. Let's go find Winston before the two of you manage to blow a hole in the universe or something."

* * *

Churchill was surprisingly amenable at having been made to wait for them but Zoe supposed he had enough to occupy his time with. The Cabinet War Rooms were filled with very busy people, and she tried her hardest not to crane her neck to look at everything and everyone. It was much more chaotic than her tour had led her to believe. She let the Doctor keep hold of her hand as she was feeling a little out of her depth with the two people who were in her personal future. She was still not used to time travel but it was different when she was getting a glimpse into her own future and not just the events that happened in the world around her in the years to come like Barack Obama's election or the Mars Landings.

At least the Doctor, even though he was different, was something familiar and comforting. He also seemed to be enjoying himself as his thumb kept running over her knuckles absently whilst they walked down the corridor with Churchill.

"So you've changed your face again," the Prime Minister observed, signing something that came his way.

"Yeah, well, had a bit of work done," the Doctor said, and Zoe snorted, earning herself a hand squeeze and an offended look from him.

"You're late, by the way," Churchill said. "I called you a month ago."

"That's pretty much his M.O," Zoe said, feeling less starstruck by Churchill but not by much. It was something that she could cross off her list though. "I'm fairly certain that _Time Lord_ is the biggest misnomer in the universe."

"Oi!" He protested.

"Twelve months, Doctor."

He scowled down at his feet.

"Been having some problems with the TARDIS," he admitted. "It's taking a while to run her in."

A male officer appeared from one of the side rooms. "Excuse me, sir. Got another formation coming in, Prime Minister. Stukas, by the look of them."

"We shall go up top then, Group Captain," Churchill said. "We'll give them what for. Coming, Doctor? Professor?"

"Why?" The Doctor asked but the Prime Minister failed to answer beyond a vague _you'll_ _see,_ and he led the three of them up to the roof of the cabinet war rooms. It was a still night, and the blimps were heavy and eye-catching in the sky, littered around Big Ben, Parliament, and Westminster Abbey. It was a remarkable sight. "We stand at a crossroads, Doctor, quite alone, with our backs to the wall. Invasion is expected daily. So I will grasp with both hands anything that will give us an advantage over the Nazi menace."

"Such as?"

"Follow me," he requested, and they walked across the roof that was filled with heavy piles of sandbags and armed, uniformed sentries to where a white-coated scientist was searching the night skies with powerful binoculars.

"Wow.," Amy breathed behind them, and Zoe turned her face to catch her eye and share the moment of wonder.

"Doctor, professor, this is Professor Edwin Bracewell," Churchill introduced the middle-aged man. "Head of our Ironsides Project."

"How do you do?" Professor Bracewell nodded politely in response to the Doctor's V for Victory sign but Zoe was distracted by what Churchill had said.

"I'm sorry, Prime Minister -" she began.

"Winston, please, professor."

"Right, Winston," she said, swallowing the amazement at addressing Churchill so informally. "What do you mean the Ironsides Project? I've never heard of that an', trust me, with the amount of studyin' I did for my A-level, I -"

"You took A-levels?" Amy interrupted with a tone of confusion.

"Of course I did," Zoe replied, sparing her a flickering frown before focusing back on Churchill. "I would've come across a mention of an Ironsides Project. What is it?"

"Let me show you instead," he said as a man from somewhere in the background reported incoming enemy aircraft and the ground shook as a bomb landed somewhere nearby. Zoe hoped that Rose and the Doctor were doing okay. She wondered if her future self had caught up with them yet. "Ready, Bracewell?"

"Aye aye, sir," Bracewell said enthusiastically, which seemed very out of place in the field of war. "On my order - _fire_!"

A sound that Zoe had heard only once before filled the air.

Fear shot through her, and the Doctor reacted physically at her side.

Energy bolts flew out from behind a sandbagged embankment and shot towards the approaching German planes; every bolt hit their target and the planes turned into fireballs in the sky. She stepped in close to the Doctor, his grip on her hand becoming painful. She wasn't in London 1941 any more. She was in an underground bunker in Utah in 2012, running from a foul creation that wanted to kill them all. Her mouth was slick with the taste of adrenaline, harsh and metallic against her tongue and the roof of her mouth; her knee throbbed in the memory of a forgotten pain; and her breathing was uneven as her body trembled because it couldn't be possible.

"No," she breathed. "It died. It _died._ "

"What was that?" The Doctor demanded, cutting over Amy's exclamation of amazement because she didn't understand. Panic and anger filled his voice. "That wasn't human. That was never human technology. That sounded like..." he didn't want to say it because saying it made it true. "Show me. _Show me_. Show me what that was!"

Bracewell nodded. "Advance!"

"Our new secret weapon," Churchill said proudly, and Zoe didn't understand why people weren't running and why she wasn't running. She wanted to grab the Doctor and Amy and just run back to the TARDIS where they would be safe. "Ha!"

A Dalek rolled out from behind the emplacement. Zoe let out a cry of fear that pulled itself from deep in her chest and crystallised in a white mist in front of her face. The Doctor released her hand and shoved her behind him, making her stumble. It wasn't like the Dalek in Van Statten's bunker – this Dalek had a Union Flag embedded into it, and its outer shell had been painted khaki with an army utility belt around it. Even with the human touches, it was still terrifying. Zoe clutched at the back of the Doctor's tweed jacket, which had more give than his leather one.

"What do you think?" Churchill asked, pleased with himself. "Quite something, eh?"

The Doctor took a step forward but Zoe's grip on him wouldn't let him move. He looked over his shoulder, eyes blazing with anger that softened upon seeing the expression on her face.

"It's okay -" he started to say.

"There is a Dalek in fucking khaki, Doctor," Zoe hissed at him. "This is not okay. This is Van Statten all over again."

"We'll deal with it," he promised her. "But I need you to let me go."

Reluctantly, she unfurled her fingers and let him move forwards even as she moved back. She watched him take the steps two at a time, anger visible in the line of his body.

"What are you doing here?" The Doctor demanded, his voice no longer soft and reassuring but cold and terrifying instead.

"I am your soldier," the Dalek's voice cracked out, and Zoe closed her eyes against the sound of it.

"What?"

"I am your soldier."

"Stop this. Stop now," the Doctor ordered. "You know who I am. You always know."

"Your identity is unknown."

"Perhaps I can clarify things here," Professor Bracewell said genially. "This is one of my Ironsides."

Baffled was a good look on the Doctor's new face. It fit it very well.

"Your what?"

"You will help the Allied cause in any way that you can," Bracewell said to the Dalek in a tone of voice that was akin to asking someone if they liked one lump or two.

The Dalek replied, "yes."

Warming to the rhythm, Bracewell continued. "Until the Germans have been utterly smashed."

"Yes."

"And what is your ultimate aim?"

"To win the war."

A shiver rolled down Zoe's spine.

That sounded like a Dalek.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-Four**

Zoe was able to pull the Doctor away from the Dalek. She fought through her fear and moved quickly up the steps behind him. He was threatening to turn himself hoarse as he argued with it, and she was terrified that he would be lit up by the energy beam; she wasn't sure she would be able to live with the knowledge that the Doctor died in front of her when she went back to her own Doctor. She reached for him and curled one hand in the back of his jacket and the other she used to hook her fingers beneath the line of his trousers, pulling him back from the machine of death like he was a recalcitrant child. He was resistant to her before she hissed his name and he fell back into her. His body was warm and firm, his hair tickling at her nose. She placed her hand in his and his large, unfamiliar fingers twined with hers. She could hear and feel him breathing heavily - his hearts beating a violent tattoo against his chest.

He opened his mouth to start in on Churchill but Zoe cut him off, leading him back down the steps to where Amy stood. She didn't look at all terrified - confused by the Doctor's reaction but not at all afraid.

"Prime Minister," Zoe started before correcting herself, _"Winston._ We need to talk - in private, please. Away from the Dalek."

"What is a Dalek?" Churchill asked her, and she squeezed the Doctor's hand to stop him from picking up his yelling again.

"The Ironside or whatever it is you call it," she said impatiently, pressing closer to the Doctor to keep him under control and because the fear of the Dalek combined with the cold January night with Germans in the sky wasn't the most comfortable she had ever felt. "Please, Winston. Now."

"Very well," he said reluctantly, and Zoe wanted to bang her head against a wall at his blindness. "Excellent work, Bracewell. Stand the Ironsides down."

"Professor." Amy appeared at her side, and Zoe started. For someone so tall, Amy moved very quietly. "What's going on?"

"Daleks, Amelia," she said, tugging the furious Doctor along next to her as they followed Churchill back down into the underground bunker. "They're the most evil creatures in all of creation: dangerous, deadly, an' vile. Whatever they're doin' here...it's not goin' to help the Allies win the war."

Amy hesitated, her eyes flickering to the angry, stiff Time Lord at her side. "Doctor, are you okay?"

The Doctor didn't answer. A muscle in his jaw twitched over and over and over as anger rolled off him in waves. Zoe smoothed her thumb over the back of his hand, letting it bump over his knuckles, and she answered for him.

"He has a difficult history with the Daleks," she said. "There's a lot of anger there."

Amy looked uncertain but she nodded, trusting her, and she followed them quietly to where they were being taken. Churchill led them into his office, and the Doctor wasted no time; he immediately started speaking, letting go of Zoe's hand to lean over the desk.

"They're Daleks," he said, moving forward. "They're called Daleks."

"They are Bracewell's Ironsides, Doctor," Churchill shook his head, reaching for a tube that he opened and pulled out large pieces of paper, spreading them over the desk. Zoe leaned over the table. "Look. Blueprints, statistics, field tests, photographs. He invented them."

"Invented them?" The Doctor scoffed. When he shook his head, his entire body seemed to shake as well. "Oh, no, no, no."

"Yes. He approached one of our brass hats a few months ago," the Prime Minister replied, lighting a new cigar, his voice perfectly calm and conversational as though completely unaware of the dangers he was placing the Earth in. "Fellow's a genius."

"Winston," Zoe said when the Doctor seemed lost for words, "he didn't invent them. They're as alien as the Doctor but far less cuddly."

"Alien?"

"And extremely hostile," the Doctor said, his body tensing and shifting to protect Zoe's as one of the Daleks rolled past the door. Tension tightened in her chest. She watched it disappear from sight, unnerved by the thought that it was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Precisely," Churchill said, jabbing his cigar at them. "They will win me the war."

"No, they won't!" Zoe exclaimed, startling everyone in the room, including herself. "We've been in this situation before. A man who thought he could control one single Dalek was responsible for the deaths of over a hundred people. That Dalek was weakened from falling through space an' time but it was still strong enough to kill everyone in the base. You have three Daleks here. _Three!_ That's enough to wreak untold devastation on not just the Germans but every man, woman, an' child on this planet. They're not your salvation, Winston, they're your damnation!"

"Listen to her," the Doctor urged, and it was only later that Zoe realised they were standing shoulder to shoulder in the face of Churchill's stubborn refusal to understand and to listen. "Listen to me! Why did you call us in if you won't listen to us?"

"When I rang you a month ago, I must admit I had my doubts," Churchill said honestly and, in that moment, Zoe saw just why he was a successful war time leader; he was steadfast in his decision making and calm in the face of a storm of emotion. He didn't allow himself to be persuaded by the emotions of the people in front of him - excellent for fighting the Germans, less so when trying to get him to see the truth about the Daleks. "The Ironsides seemed too good to be true."

"They are too good to be true!" Zoe exclaimed, trying hard to keep her temper and frustration in check.

"Yes. Exactly," the Doctor said, snapping his fingers at her. "So destroy them. Exterminate them."

"But imagine what I could do with a hundred. A _thousand,_ " Churchill implored, and the very thought of what a thousand Daleks could accomplish made Zoe sick with fear.

"Amy, tell him," the Doctor said, turning to his companion. Amy stared back at him in surprise. Zoe looked around at the previously silent companion who had been watching the back and forth with great interest - she wondered how long Amy had been travelling with the Doctor – Amy just seemed startled to be addressed at all.

"Tell him what?" She asked, bewildered.

"About the Daleks."

"What would I know about the Daleks?" She replied with a short laugh.

"Everything. They invaded your world, remember?" The Doctor said, and Zoe turned on her heel to stare at him in horror - Daleks invading the Earth? The thought of it was incomprehensible to her. "Planets in the sky. You don't forget that! Amy, tell me you remember the Daleks."

She shook her head, baffled. "No, sorry."

"That's not possible," he breathed, looking like he had been struck around the head with something hard and unforgiving.

Churchill stepped out from behind the desk in order to get back to work as the bombardment still hadn't ended and London was still shaking from the bombs that were dropping. Amy hesitated before following Churchill at Zoe's nod. She needed a moment alone with the Doctor, who looked troubled; his tall body slumped was against the desk and his head hung low. She went to run her fingers through her hair, forgetting there wasn't enough to do that, and settled instead for tugging on her ear. She waited until Amy closed the door behind her, her cheerful voice speaking to Winston and asking him more about the Daleks - or rather, Ironsides - as they went. She was smart, not that that surprised Zoe. The Doctor tended to travel with smart people.

She looked at him. He looked not quite defeated, but close to it. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her coat and stood in front of him. She wondered how Future Zoe would handle the situation had she been there instead of doing whatever it was she had to do to close the circle. The Doctor looked up at her, and he looked old. His face and mannerisms were young but he couldn't hide his age in that moment.

"This is wrong, something's wrong," he said on the tail end of a heavy sigh, his own hands in the pockets of his trousers.

She noticed that his suspenders matched his bow tie, which she thought was a nice touch.

"Yeah, three Daleks dressed up as British soldiers," she agreed. Although it was under difficult circumstances, she felt the tension ease from her shoulders now that she was alone with the Doctor; them talking through a problem was familiar, even if everything else was different. "I'm puttin' my money on that being the thing that's wrong."

"No, you don't understand." He shook his head before biting back a sigh. He looked up at her through his floppy hair. "I'm sorry. I forgot for a second that you don't know what I'm talking about yet."

"Is it to do with planets in the sky?" She asked him, and his head dropped back with a groan.

"I'm really bad at this spoilers thing!"

She grinned at him. "Yeah, but I warned me about that – God, that's a weird sentence. She said you're a bit useless on that front."

"Oh, did she?" He asked, amused. "Well, she's right. She usually is. Forget about planets in the sky."

"An' the Daleks invading Earth?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"That too," he told her seriously. "Your family's fine, Zoe. I promise."

"It's a little weird that Rose isn't here," she admitted, finally putting into words the feeling that had been pushing at the back of her mind since she got into the car after turning right. He looked up at her, listening attentively. It was a bit disconcerting to be listened to so avidly but she felt she could get used to it. "She's really okay?"

"Really, really," the Doctor promised her, removing his hands from his pockets and making grabbing gestures for hers. She gave them to him. He pulled her close to him, moving his legs so that she could stand comfortably between them. He put her hands on his shoulders and looped his arms around her waist. "Your sister is fine and happy. Really happy. You - other you, that is - was gabbing away with her on the phone just this morning. Honestly, it was really distracting."

"You get distracted by butterflies, Doctor."

"Only the pretty ones," he said and laughed when she thumped his shoulder.

"I see we've got much closer as well," Zoe said, and there was a lack of understanding on his face before she gestured at how they were standing.

"I'm sorry" he apologised, removing his arms from her waist, realising that he might have made her uncomfortable. "It's habit."

"It's fine," she said quickly, a blush climbing her cheeks. "I didn't say I didn't like it. It was just an observation."

"Oh." He carefully put his arms back around her. "Good?"

She nodded, and he looked pleased. "So we're close?"

"You're my best friend," he said without missing a beat, sincerity in every word. "So yeah, we're close."

Zoe eyed him closely but he just looked at her with a perfectly innocent expression that she didn't trust in the slightest. _Spoilers_ she thought, and she distracted herself from something she didn't fully understand and something she wasn't sure she wanted to understand just yet.

"So...we've got Daleks pretending to be the invention of a guy from Scotland?" She said, drawing them back onto the issue at hand. "Why?"

"That's the question of the hour," he said. "Why? Why go to all this trouble?"

"I mean, if they wanted to destroy the Earth, wouldn't Germany have been a better choice to go to?" She asked. "I'm pretty sure Hitler wouldn't think twice about usin' them in the field of war...or at least tryin' to."

"They shouldn't even need to use proxies," he replied, drumming his fingers against her hips. "Three Daleks? That's two more than's needed to take over the Earth and destroy it."

"Like Utah," she said, and he nodded. "About that...I thought - I thought the Daleks were gone. In Van Statten's bunker..."

He sighed heavily, nostrils flaring. "So did I. For a time. We were wrong. They survived. They always survive. They're like cockroaches, Zoe. You try to stamp them out but they keep coming back, and I don't know what to do. They're clearly planning something..."

"There we go then, we start there," she said. "Find out what their plan is. Winston said that Bracewell approached the brass months ago. Now, from you told me about Davros an' the creation of the Daleks, that took lifetimes. Didn't you say he had to use a life support system an' genetic engineerin' to stay alive in order to create the Daleks?"

"I did."

"Then there is absolutely no way that a human in 1941 could do what it took Davros lifetimes to achieve," she said because if there was only one thing that the Doctor admitted about Davros it was that he was a genius; not a run of the mill genius but a genuine, once-in-a-millennia type of genius. "So we start with Bracewell. Someone or something gave him the knowledge to build the Daleks. If he built the Daleks, which I doubt. In that case, he's a cover an' I want to find out why. We just have to trace it back."

The Doctor was staring at her with a smile creeping up his face.

"You're brilliant, you are.," he told her with warm sincerity. "I'd forgotten just how brilliant you are young. I'm so used to it now but here you are, seventeen years old, scared out of your mind and you're absolutely brilliant."

She blushed. "Shut up."

"Nope!" He declared happily, leaning forwards and kissing her cheek. "I adore you, Zoe Tyler."

Her blush darkened both at his action and the honesty in his words. He was more emotionally open than the Doctor she knew. They hurried out of the room and made their way towards the map room when her phone suddenly started ringing, surprising the both of them. She dug into her pocket. Her sister's name flashed across the screen.

"It's Rose," she told him, showing him the screen.

"Don't tell her anything about the future," the Doctor warned. "I remember her having a conversation with you but I don't remember the specifics."

"What are you guys even doing?" She asked, thumb hovering over the green button.

"Oh, gas masks and children and flashy time agents." He waved a hand dismissively. "You'll find out. Remember -"

He mimed zipping his mouth shut before disappearing into the map room.

* * *

Rose was used to the weird and the wonderful after four months of travelling with the Doctor - or at least she was _getting_ used to it. Running into a future version of her little sister in the middle of a hospital in 1941 was stranger than anything she had encountered so far though. She had been walking through the corridors with Captain Jack Harkness, who had scanned for alien technology like she wanted the Doctor to do, and the next minute Zoe-from-the-future was appearing in the corridor with the Doctor and a delighted _Rosie_! on her lips. There was a mess of confusion for a few minutes as the Doctor tried to make sense of Jack; Rose tried to make sense of Zoe-from-the-future; Jack tried to flirt with both the Doctor and Zoe-from-the-future; and Zoe-from-the-future tried to hug both her and Jack at the same time.

"Oh, this brings me back!" Zoe-from-the-future had exclaimed happily before striding off with Jack leaving Rose to stare at the Doctor with a slack mouth.

He gave an awkward shrug. "She just turned up. Our Zoe is off doing something else with a future me apparently."

There wasn't much time to think about it though as the situation demanded her full attention. It was only now that she was sat in an old wheelchair, Captain Jack having teleported somewhere else, watching the Doctor and Zoe-from-the-future argue about how best to escape from their room because _resonating concrete isn't a thing, Doctor_ that she allowed herself to embrace the weirdness. She used her foot to roll back and forth on the spot when Zoe-from-the-future whipped out her phone and shoved it in the Doctor's face to prove her point that she remembered her own phone. She dug it out of her pocket – she had been texting Shareen when the mauve alert threw her from her bed - and she called her sister, wondering if she would answer or Zoe-from-the-future's phone would start ringing.

A phone was ringing, and it wasn't Zoe-from-the-future's as she was trying to wrestle the sonic screwdriver from the Doctor.

"Stop being stubborn!"

"Get off me, you crazy woman!" The Doctor exclaimed, trying to bat her away but Zoe-from-the-future was wily and quick on her feet. She snatched the screwdriver from his hand with a triumphant _aha_!

" _Rosie?_ "

Zoe's voice came through the phone, and Rose was struck by a feeling of complete and utter oddness. Four months ago, she had been a shop girl. Now she was sitting in 1941 watching her sister from the future argue with an alien.

"This is weird," Rose said. "I'm starin' at you right now arguin' with the Doctor about resonatin' concrete, but I'm also talkin' to you on the phone. This is weird."

" _Yeah, I know. She scared the shit out of me aboard the TARDIS_ ," her sister admitted before frowning. " _Resonatin' concrete_?"

"I honestly don't know," Rose replied, rubbing at her eyes. "It's been a pretty strange night so far."

She heard her sister huff a laugh on the other end. Wherever she was, her voice echoed slightly.

" _Did you find the ship?_ "

"Yeah, kind of," she said, picking at the hem of her shirt that, in hindsight, might not have been the best choice for the middle of the London Blitz. "It's an empty ambulance that Captain Jack -"

The Doctor whipped around, holding Zoe-from-the-future at bay with one hand, having recovered the sonic screwdriver. He glared at Rose in her purloined wheelchair.

"Stop calling him that," he ordered, annoyance making the lines around his eyes more prominent. "He's probably not even a captain."

"Don't be jealous, Doctor," Zoe-from-the-future laughed, using his distraction to pluck the screwdriver from his hands. She gently bopped him on the nose with it. His expression was thunderous. "It makes you look like a child."

Zoe gave a small laugh on the other end of the phone, and Rose groaned down the line.

"I've had to listen to the two of them bicker all night," she complained. "Apparently you like teasin' him in the future _._ "

" _Good to know,_ " Zoe said with a smile in her words. " _Who's Captain Jack_?"

"The time agent who's responsible for this mess," Rose answered, her skin tingling as she remembered dancing in front of Big Ben. She had never wanted to have sex with a man more in her life, and Jack had known it as well. "You'll like him. He's very charmin' an' really, really handsome. Like oh my god how are you real handsome?"

 _"_ _That's pretty handsome_."

She grinned.

"How are you?" She asked. "What are you doin' anyway? Other you was really vague about it."

" _Honestly - not great,_ " Zoe admitted. Rose felt concern and worry sweep over her - the Doctor promised her that Zoe would be safe as she was with him but, a dark, petty part of her had thought that she hadn't been safe on Tolandra when she was with him. She didn't say that out loud, but she thought it for a second and immediately felt ashamed of herself. She chewed her bottom lip and wondered if they were at least geographically close to each other. " _There's some stuff happenin' here...really scary stuff, but the Doctor is here an' Winston Churchill -_ "

"Shut up! Really?"

Zoe laughed, and it went some way to easing the worry in her chest.

" _Yeah. He told me to call him Winston_."

"That's so cool," she said, grinning down the line before her tone changed abruptly when she glanced up at the Doctor and Zoe-from-the-future. "Oh my god."

She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

" _What_?" Zoe asked, worried.

"You're dancing with the Doctor!" She hissed down the line, laughter chasing her words, because he looked incredibly uncomfortable as Zoe-from-the-future positioned his hands correctly on her body - one on her shoulder, the other on her waist - and she led him in a dance to Moonlight Serenade that Captain Jack was piping through the radio for them.

" _The Doctor dances?_ "

"Apparently he does it well," Rose laughed, grinning at the Doctor when he shot her a filthy glare before becoming distracted by Zoe-from-the-future's movements, their bodies close together. A loud siren split the air, both outside the hospital and where Zoe was. "What's that?"

" _The all-clear,_ " Zoe answered. " _The bombin' has stopped for now._ " Her next words were distracted and a little rushed as an voice Rose didn't recognise called out to her. " _Rosie, I've got to go. Stay safe_."

" _Y_ ou too," she replied quickly, heart picking up again. "I'll see you soon. Love you."

 _"Love you too - bye."_

Zoe hung up, and Rose was teleported away in a flash of white light. Captain Jack turned around in his seat and grinned at her.

"Hello, again."

* * *

Bracewell's laboratory was tidier than Zoe expected; she'd always imagined research laboratories to be messy and overflowing with bits and bobs. Amy was fiddling with papers on the flat surfaces, and holding bits and pieces of equipment up in front of her eye. She was reminded of hours before when she walked into the library to find the Doctor tinkering away with a strange piece of technology – it felt like longer. She moved away from the Doctor and let her eyes ghost over the tables, trying to find if there was anything there that might be useful for them.

"Would you care for some tea?"

"Fuck me!" Zoe exclaimed, fear slamming her back into the table, which shook under the assault of her body. A Dalek was extending a cup of tea to her, a silver tray balanced on its sucker. "No!"

It rolled away, unperturbed by her rudeness. Her hand was flattened against her chest, and she met the Doctor's eyes. Under any other circumstances, her reaction would have been the cause for some teasing. Instead, he turned to Edwin Bracewell and slipped into his charming _I've been persuaded you're not all idiots and this might actually work_ act.

"All right, prof." He clapped his hands together. "Now, the PM's been filling me in. Amazing things, these Ironsides of yours. Amazing. You must be very proud of them."

"Just doing my bit," Bracewell said with a touch of pride in his voice, sipping the tea he accepted from the Dalek; genius always liked to be recognised after all.

"Not bad for a Paisley boy," Amy said, easily falling into the discreet interrogation. Zoe found herself nodding her approval before she caught herself.

The professor smiled at her over his glasses. "Yes, I thought I detected a familiar cadence, my dear."

"How did you do it?" The Doctor asked conversationally, and for anyone who didn't know him they would be unable to tell that there was a sharp, cold fury burning beneath his polite veneer. "Come up with the idea that is?"

"How does the muse of invention come to anyone?"

"Do you get a lot of visits from this muse?" Zoe asked curiously, her heart still thundering in her chest but it was calming down now that the Dalek was away from her.

"Well, ideas just seem to teem from my head. Wonderful things, like...let me show you," Bracewell said, setting his tea down and standing up to pick up a notebook. She took it from him, and the Doctor stood at her shoulder to examine it with her. She flicked through it slowly. "Some musings on the potential of hypersonic flight, gravity bubbles that can sustain life outside of the terrestrial atmosphere...all came to me in the bath."

"Not 1940s tech," Zoe murmured under her breath so that only the Doctor could hear her; he made a quiet sound of agreement in his throat that went directly into her ear. His breath was warm against her skin. She tried not to shiver, remembering how it felt when Frelin had kissed her there.

"This isn't even human," he said quietly, tapping the designs for gravity bubbles with his index finger.

"Dalek?"

"Yep. Each Dalek is equipped with one of these. It's what allows them to be in a vacuum without a ship," he said before raising his voice to talk to Bracewell, remaining at Zoe's shoulder, keeping an eye as she flicked through the rest of the book. "And are these your ideas or theirs?"

Bracewell shook his head with the small, patronising laugh of an overconfident man. "Oh no, no, no. These robots are entirely under my control, Doctor. They are the perfect servant and the perfect warrior."

"I don't know what you're up to, professor, but whatever they've promised, you cannot trust them," he said, dropping the pretence. Zoe looked up warily, apparently Bracewell had gone too far in his description of the Daleks as a perfect servant. "Call them what you like, the Daleks are death."

"Yes, Doctor. Death to our enemies," Churchill said, walking into the room, a fresh cigar in between his teeth. "Death to the forces of darkness, and death to the Third Reich."

"Winston," Zoe began, snapping the book shut and holding it in one hand. "If you continue down this path, you'll be beggin' for the days when Adolf Hitler was your biggest problem. This is an evil far beyond anythin' you've ever experienced an' not somethin' you're capable of dealin' with."

"Would you care for some tea?" A Dalek asked in its grating, terrifying voice, appearing before the Doctor with a tray balanced on its sucker, preventing Churchill from answering.

The Doctor's temper snapped abruptly, like an elastic band stretched too tight. His arm swung out, and he knocked the tray violently away. China cups and the simple china teapot shattered into pieces on the ground, hot tea spilling around their feet. Zoe jumped, and Amy let out a yelp of surprise.

"Stop this!" He roared. "What are you doing here? What do you want?"

"We seek only to help you."

"To do what?" The Doctor demanded, eyes blazing with fury.

"To win the war."

"Really?" He asked with a cold laugh. "Which war?"

There was a beat of silence. Daleks were incapable of any emotion but hate. That was what the Doctor had told her. The Dalek in Van Statten's bunker – what they thought was the last of its kind – was the exception to that because of Rose. The Daleks before them didn't know that.

"I do not understand."

"This war, against the Nazis, or your war?" The Doctor spat at it, his pale cheeks dashed with high spots of red across his cheekbones. "The war against the rest of the Universe? The war against all life forms that are not Dalek?"

"I do not understand. I am your soldier."

"Oh, yeah?" He replied, chest heaving with anger and a feeling of dread prickled at the back of Zoe's neck. "Okay. Okay, soldier, defend yourself."

The Doctor picked up a huge spanner from where it rested against the side of a wall. Zoe started forward, hand flung out as though that would stop him.

"Doctor, no!"

"Doctor, what the devil?" Churchill demanded, and they all flinched as the spanner hit the outer casing of the Dalek with all the strength of a furious Time Lord. His muscles stretched and clenched with every ringing slam of the spanner.

"Doctor!" Zoe yelled. "Stop!"

"Come on. Fight back. You want to, don't you? You know you do," he yelled furiously, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth. "What are you waiting for? Look, you hate me. You want to kill me. Well, go on. Kill me. Kill me!"

"Doctor, no!" She cried again, fear pricking at her skin. "This is dangerous! _Stop_!"

"Please desist from striking me," the Dalek said in the same tone that it said everything else in. "I am your soldier."

He dropped the spanner and it fell to the ground with a loud _clang_.

"You are my enemy!" He declared furiously. "And I am yours. You are everything I despise. The worst thing in all creation. I've defeated you time and time again. I've defeated you. I sent you back into the Void. I saved the whole of reality from you. I am the Doctor, and you are the Daleks."

There was a ringing moment of silence. All Zoe could hear was the Doctor's rough breathing and the thrum of her blood through her ears. Somewhere in the background, Amy was saying something.

"Correct," the Dalek said, and Zoe's heart sank in her chest. A Dalek agreeing with the Doctor only spelt trouble. "Review testimony."

The Doctor's voice was replayed to them in all of its angry glory.

" _I am the Doctor, and you are the Daleks_."

"Testimony," the Doctor repeated, coming back to himself, realising that he might have made a serious miscalculation. "What are you talking about - testimony?"

"Dammit, Doctor," Zoe said, her exasperation and fear warring with the pity she felt for the old, lonely alien with a dead planet and dead people. "This is like the bunker all over again. That Dalek came to life when you identified yourself, an' now..."

"Oh," he said softly as realisation dawned. "Oh, dear."

"Transmitting testimony now," the Dalek said.

"Transmit what?" The Doctor asked, looking around sharply. "Where?"

"Didn't you once tell me that Daleks had ships?" Zoe asked worriedly, staring up at the ceiling as though she could see through the brick and earth into the space above them. "How many Daleks can fit on one ship?"

"Thousands," he said worriedly.

"Oh, god."

"Testimony accepted," the Dalek decreed, and the Doctor dove for Zoe.

"Get back, all of you!" He ordered, shielding Zoe's body with his own; Amy ducked behind a filing cabinet and peeked out with wide eyes.

"Marines! Marines!" Churchill yelled having finally accepted the gravity of the situation. "Get in here!"

"No!" Zoe cried out, remembering how useless guns had been in Van Statten's bunker. "Don't -"

It was too late. Two marines who burst through the door, guns raised, were killed in the bright glare of the energy beams. Amy screamed, hands flying to her mouth. Bracewell moved forwards in confusion.

"Stop it, stop it, please," he pleaded with them. "What are you doing? You are my Ironsides."

"We are the Daleks."

"But I created you!" Bracewell cried.

"No," the Dalek said, and it turned its weapon onto the professor and shot his left hand off, sparks flying from the severed wrist revealing an intricate and sophisticated android. "We created you."

"Victory! Victory! Victory!" The Daleks chanted in their awful voice before they teleported away.

The room was left in a stunned, panicked silence with two dead marines on the floor and a shell shocked Bracewell cradling his sparking arm close to his chest. Amy tentatively stepped out from behind the filing cabinet. The Doctor turned his body and slipped an arm around Zoe's waist, breathing hard, shoulders slumping. She rested her forehead against his shoulder.

"I wanted to know what they wanted," he said blankly. "What their plan was...it was me. I was their plan."

Zoe raised her hand and put it on the back of his head to comfort him with gentle fingers.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

Over the years, the sound of Zoe's heartbeat had helped to bring him down from the heights of emotions – anger being only one of them. She wasn't aware of the power she held over him yet, but the feel of her fingers was strong and comforting in his hair. They moved through the short strands at the back of his neck, lifting them from his scalp, and pressing her fingers there to massage the tension from his body. It was all done without thought. He closed his eyes against the sensation and sighed. It was always the Daleks; they kept casting a long, dark shadow over his life.

He listened to the steady thump-thump of her heart in her fragile human chest. She felt so delicate in his arms, as though she would shatter if he held her too tightly. He couldn't remember her ever feeling like that before. Not even on the long nights he had lain stretched out in her bed in the weeks and months after Tolandra, the shade of which was long gone although it had left its mark on his Zoe. She felt terrifyingly human, and he pressed his face deeper into the curve of her neck, anger at himself throbbing through him. He had walked straight into the trap the Daleks had set out before him, just like he always did.

 _Stupid Doctor_ he chastised himself _you never learn_.

The laboratory was deathly silent. No one seemed able – or willing – to speak. Churchill looked shaken, but it wouldn't last long knowing him. He hadn't won the war by allowing a setback to keep him down for long. Amy emerged from behind a filing cabinet, pale but determined, confident that the Doctor or Zoe would fix the situation. However, Bracewell was shaking all over. His eyes were fixed on his broken limb that revealed the truth about who he was in the most horrific way. The Daleks left a feeling of failure and hopelessness hanging over the room; with the Doctor slumped against Zoe, the picture of defeat seemed complete.

Eventually, he raised his head from her neck but stayed pressed against her, her arm around his shoulders.

"Testimony accepted," he said into the silence. "That's what they said. My testimony."

"Don't beat yourself up because you were right," Amy said comfortingly, her Scottish briskness and tendency to pick herself up and brush herself off was very much appreciated in the moment. "So, what do we do?"

"We go after them," Zoe said, looking from Amy to the Doctor. "Take the TARDIS up to their ship, an' do whatever we have to do to stop them, right?"

"That's what I do, yeah, and it's dangerous, so you stay here," the Doctor said, pulling himself reluctantly from the warmth and safety of Zoe's embrace, his hand lingering a moment too long on her hip.

"What? So you mean I've got to stay safe down here in the middle of the London Blitz?" Amy asked incredulously, her brilliant red hair shining like fire and sunlight under the unforgiving light of the bunker.

"Safe as it gets around me," he apologised, speaking honestly before stopping Zoe from joining him with a hand that tightened on her hip. "You too, love."

She ignored the affectionate term of endearment.

"I beg your fuckin' pardon?" She asked sharply.

He winced at her tone, his face still as expressive as it was with the Doctor she had met months ago. His skin and muscles contorted like elastic.

"You're not coming with me."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not," he said firmly. It had been years since he had had this type of argument with her, and he remembered just how badly it had worked then. At first she had been amenable to following his orders but that hadn't lasted long: weeks, if anything. Thanatos had changed her outlook on blindly following his orders, and Tolandra just solidified it. "Zoe, you're from the past. You know what happens if the timelines are messed with. If you die here today...the paradox would be inconceivable."

"Well, obviously I don't die today otherwise I wouldn't have met my future self an' come here," she pointed out, reminding him that she didn't know about the intricacies of time travel yet. There was so much he took for granted in his Zoe: her knowledge and experience was vast and encompassing. In young Zoe's time, the Doctor wasn't bothering to teach her anything that would actually be useful for her future as he didn't want the extra heartbreak of getting his hopes dashed when she inevitably left. "So I'm comin'."

"Time doesn't work like that," he told her quickly as time was of the essence. "And you'll realise that eventually, but right now you need to know that you can die today - that seeing your future self means nothing. Time is constantly being rewritten, every minute, every hour. It's a malleable thing Time, and I'm not going to risk your future on it. Not today."

"But -"

"Please," he implored, taking her hand in his and pulling it against his chest between his hearts, his other hand cupping her face that still held some baby fat from her youth. She felt the universe narrow to just them and breathing was suddenly very difficult to do. Her lungs burned. "Zoe, I'm not going to risk our days on it. We have so many of them to come. Wonderful, brilliant days. You and me in the TARDIS, running and exploring and saving countless worlds. Don't ask me to risk those. Please."

He realised his mistake too late. A dawning realisation swept into her eyes. Her fingers flexed in his grip, her body swaying a little towards him.

She was always a little too smart for her own good.

"Oh." She breathed softly, feeling as the universe was pouring into her.

That soft _oh_ made him want to –

"Spoilers.," the Doctor whispered before he leaned forwards and kissed her cheek, lips lingering against her warm skin.

He released her abruptly. She staggered a little at having to support her body weight unexpectedly. He took off at a run to where he had parked the TARDIS after dropping his Zoe off at a nondescript corner. He ran so that she couldn't catch up with him, and he ran because he was a coward who had accidentally given away the biggest spoiler of her future. He half-expected to feel the timelines shifting around him. He jumped into the TARDIS, the doors snapping shut behind him.

Back in the laboratory, Amy sidled up to her with an expression on her face that indicated she was extremely put out at being left behind. Zoe knew the feeling - or at least she would if she could feel anything other than the shock that reverberated through her system, her cheek burning where his lips had touched her.

"What's he expect us to do now?" Amy complained.

 _He loves me_ Zoe thought in a daze.

"KBO, of course," Churchill said, flanking Amy.

 _He's in love with me_.

"KBO?"

 _He loves me_.

"Keep buggering on," Zoe translated suddenly, snapping herself out of her daze and lowering her fingers from her cheek where she had been touching the place his lips had landed like a foolish girl. Her cheeks burned, and she shoved her hand into her pockets, watching Churchill move towards Bracewell.

"Professor?" Amy asked, hesitantly touching her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said after a beat of silence. "C'mon, Amelia. There's plenty we can do from here."

* * *

In the main room where little figurines of troops and military equipment were situated on a large map to signify the field of war, Zoe stood with her arms folded across her chest as she listened to everyone talking around her. Her shock at the revelation that the Doctor was in love with her – or at least a version of her that existed in the future – was being replaced by anger that he had not only thought of leaving her behind but had actually done so. She acknowledged that his argument was logical but she still didn't appreciate it. Her eyes watched a young woman, probably a few years older than Rose, enter the room and hurry towards Churchill.

"Prime Minister," she said.

Churchill didn't even angle his corpulent body towards her. He kept his eyes fixed on the information coming in. "Yes?"

"Signal from RDF, sir," the woman said. "Unidentified object. Hanging in the sky, Captain Childers says. We can't get a proper fix, though. It's too far up."

 _Finally_ Zoe thought. Amy moved quickly forwards, her excitement nearly making her stumble. Churchill looked up at the tall woman.

"What do you think, Miss Pond?" He asked. "The Doctor's in trouble and now we know where he is."

"Yeah, because he'll be on that ship, won't he?" Amy asked, looking back towards Zoe, addressing her question to her. "Right in the middle of everything."

Churchill rapped her upper arm with his knuckles and smiled around his cigar. "Exactly."

"Winston, excuse me," Zoe interrupted. She dropped her arms from her chest. "But you don't have the technology in 1941 to get a message up there, let alone help. What d'you intend to do?"

"Surely you have some ideas, professor," Churchill said with a cheer that she felt was a bit misplaced given the circumstances. "I've never known you to be short of them in the past."

A headache started to build between her eyes. She wanted to pinch her nose, but she valiantly resisted.

"I'm not the woman you know," she told both of them. "Whatever experiences you've had with me in the past...they haven't happened for me yet. If you're puttin' your hopes on me havin' a brilliant idea then -"

Whatever she was about to say was lost in the panic that came with the words from an officer manning one of the phones.

"The generators won't switch off," the officer said, bewildered with just a hint of panic at the edge of his voice. "The lights are on all across London, Prime Minister."

"Has to be them. It has to be the Daleks," Amy said with a nod.

"The Germans can see every inch of the city," Churchill growled angrily. "We're sitting ducks. Get those lights out before the Germans get here."

"Get someone to the National Grid," Zoe said urgently to the Prime Minister, her fingers tingling with adrenaline. "Have them burn the buildin' down if they have to. Whatever it takes the get the lights off."

The Prime Minister turned and delivered the order. "Send men to the National Grid. Have them yank the wires out of the ground. Get the lights off now."

"Confirm. Squadron two four four and fifty six mobilised. Emergency. Emergency."

"One oh nine? One oh nine, confirm."

"Thousands will die if we don't get those lights out now," Churchill barked into the room of organised panic and chaos - the British knew how to soldier through even when the odds were stacked against them.

"German bombers sighted over the Channel, sir. ETA ten minutes, sir."

"Here they come," he said, bracing himself and the room of officers. "Get a message to Mr Attlee. War Cabinet meeting at 0300 hours...if we're all still here."

"We can't just sit here," Amy said, looking wildly around at Zoe. "We've got to take the fight to the Daleks."

"How? None of our weapons are a match for theirs," Zoe said. "You haven't seen the Daleks in action, Amy. Nothin' can stop them. Their weapons are beyond any human technology, particularly in this time. Only alien -"

She stopped suddenly. A brilliant idea struck her. Part of her wished it hadn't because of the way Churchill grinned knowingly. The more sensible part of her turned on her heels and strode away, calling out for Amy to follow her and she had to jogged to keep up.

"What is it, professor?" She asked eagerly. "Do you have an idea?"

"Makings of one," Zoe replied before frowning. "You know, you really don't have to keep callin' me that. _Professor_. You can call me Zoe."

"Yeah, no, I'm good thanks," Amy laughed. "Reckon that'd be too weird. You've always been the professor to me."

"You say I've known you all your life?" She asked curiously, aware that she was threatening to step across the line of knowing too much.

"Well, we met when I was seven," Amy said, not knowing well enough to keep quiet and Zoe figured that having another glimpse into her future wouldn't be world ending - at least not after the Doctor's revelation. "I prayed to Santa for help and you appeared in my garden."

She looked amused. "Why would you pray to Santa?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Good point," she said. "So you've been travellin' with us since you were seven. That seems extremely reckless, even for the Doctor."

"No." Amy shook her head, her long red hair falling over her shoulders. "I wanted to come with you, but you wouldn't let me. You tucked me up in bed, told me a story, promised to come back for me one day and then I didn't see you for another fourteen years. That was six days ago."

"Blimey," Zoe said, stunned. "Sorry for the wait, I suppose?"

Amy grinned. "It's fine. Sorry for the cricket bat to the face."

"Sorry the what now?" She asked alarmed.

A mischievous grin stole across the other woman's face. "Spoilers."

Zoe couldn't help but laugh. "I can see why I like you."

Amy looked extremely pleased at that.

"So where are we going then?" She asked. "The Doctor's up in space. We're down here. What's your plan?"

"The answer is staring us right in the face," she explained, feeling more light hearted than she had moments ago. She hoped that Rose and the Doctor were safe wherever they were, far from whatever the Daleks had planned. The thought of having to live the day twice didn't sit well with her; she hoped the second time around there would be less Daleks involved. "A gift the Daleks gave us."

Edwin Bracewell was still in the laboratory. He had devised a makeshift sling for his arm, wrapping non-conductive material around the stump that ended at his wrist, and he looked miserable and defeated. He didn't even look up when Zoe and Amy swept into the room bringing with them an air of purpose and hope. Everything he ever thought – every hope, dream, and moment of happiness – was all an illusion created by the Daleks to give him the facsimile of life. To have that certainty pulled out from underneath him left him feeling as though he was a ship adrift at sea in the middle of a storm: rudderless. His fingers flexed around the gun he held in his hand, trying to find the courage inside his false body to pull the trigger.

"Put the gun down, Professor Bracewell," Zoe ordered. "We need you."

"My life is a lie," Bracewell said, his voice wavering on his words. "And I choose to end it."

"In your own time, Paisley boy," Amy replied, swinging around and bending over in front of him so that their faces were close. "Because the professor's right. We need your help."

"But those creatures, my Ironsides, they made me?" He asked, looking between the two of them with an expression of exquisite agony on his face. Zoe's heart went out to him. "I can remember things. So many things. The last war. The squalor and the mud and the awful, _awful_ misery of it all. What am I?"

"You are whatever you decide you are," Zoe said, moving around and dragging a chair out, the legs of it scraping painfully across the floor, grabbing his notebook that she'd been flicking through earlier as she did so. She sat next to him and placed her hand on his knee. "They might have created this body, but they didn't create your soul, your heart. You get to decide what to do with that. You're not beholden to them."

"But...I..."

"Listen to me," she said seriously, "I understand. Your entire life has just changed like that -" she snapped her fingers and he jumped. "But there is a spaceship up there lightin' up London like Oxford Street at Christmas. Thousands of people are going to die tonight if we don't stop it, an' you're the only one who can help take it down."

When he spoke, he sounded thick with snot and tears. "I am?"

"You're alien technology," she said, "but better than that – an' I can't believe I'm saying this – you're Dalek technology. For all their faults, an' there are many, they are ingenious. Truly, an' I travel with the Doctor, so I don't use that word lightly. They made a big mistake in leavin' you down here with us. I need you to help me make one of your ideas a reality."

Bracewell set the gun down and Amy quickly, but discreetly, moved it out of his reach. Zoe caught her eye and nodded. He wiped at his face with a handkerchief as she flicked open the book and tapped the page.

"This," she said. "I need you to make this a reality."

"Environmental shields?" He asked, blowing his nose. "What good will that do?"

"Winston." She looked over her shoulder at the Prime Minister who had accompanied them for lack of a better idea. "Do you have a squadron of fighter pilots ready to go?"

"They can be ready, professor," he assured her.

"It's like Amy said," she replied. "We need to take the fight to the Daleks. We don't have space ships, but we do have the RAF."

Churchill caught onto her idea and a smile stretched across his large face. "Oh, yes. we do. Yes - we - do!"

"I still don't understand," Amy said as Bracewell rose to his feet and got to work, calling out orders to his assistants. Churchill bustled from the room and was barking orders as he moved down the corridor as time was, once again, of the essence; there was only so long that even the Doctor could keep the Daleks busy before they killed him out of irritation. "What are we doing?"

"We're sendin' the RAF fighter pilots up to the Dalek ship," Zoe explained, shrugging out of her coat and tossing it over the back of her chair, finding herself grateful for the first time for her short hair as she didn't have to tie it up. "The Daleks need a satellite of sorts, or an array of some kind, to so closely target London. They could cover the whole planet from inside the ship but for such specific targetin' they need somethin' on the outside. We're goin' to send the pilots up usin' Professor Bracewell's environmental shieldin' to give them atmosphere so that they can knock out the satellite an' put London back into darkness."

"That's brilliant!" Amy exclaimed. "But wait - what about the National Grid? I thought it was being shut down. Isn't that safer?"

"Yes, but it's unlikely to work," she admitted. "The Daleks don't need a grid network to activate electricity. They can power it remotely from their ship but disablin' the Grid was a good idea when there were no other ideas. Now - go after Churchill. Keep an eye on what's happenin' up there. If that ship moves an inch, I want to know about it."

"On it, professor!" Amy laughed and she dashed away, whooping with excitement.

Zoe turned to Bracewell. "All right, professor, put me to work."

* * *

Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor was reminded of exactly why he had so much faith in Zoe Tyler when RAF spitfires broke out of the Earth's atmosphere and sped towards the Dalek ship. He laughed at the absurdity of it, relief crashing through him. His back had been against a wall and he had been struggling to find a way out. Locking himself in his TARDIS to buy some time was the best idea he had had,and then seventeen-year-old Zoe Tyler managed to pull him to safety once again.

" _Danny Boy to the Doctor, Danny Boy to the Doctor. Are you receiving me? Over._ "

His laughter bubbled through as he grabbed the radio. "Loud and clear, Danny Boy! Big dish on the side of the ship. Blow it up. Over."

His finger released the button, and he released a whoop of delight to the TARDIS ceiling.

"Zoe, you beautiful genius!" He laughed.

The Doctor's mirth faded with each spitfire that was blown out of the sky until only Danny Boy remained. He deactivated the Daleks' shielding, disrupting it for just long enough for the brave RAF pilot to destroy the dish. London went out – the light on the planet below popping out as quickly as a bulb blowing. He thought about sending Danny Boy in for another run but it would be useless. Even with the advanced weaponry arming the spitfire, he still stood no match against the Dalek. He raised the radio to his mouth again when the white Dalek's voice echoed through the TARDIS.

" _Doctor, call off your attack._ "

"And what?" The Doctor scoffed, already keying into the rarely used TARDIS weapons' system in order to build enough energy from the centre of the TARDIS to blow the Dalek ship into dust. "Let you scuttle off back to the future? Not a chance. This is the end for you. The final end this time, and I mean that."

" _Call off the attack, or we will destroy the Earth._ "

The Doctor's fingers paused. "I'm not stupid, mate. You've just played your last card."

" _Bracewell is a bomb._ "

Even though he knew that the Dalek was more than capable of lying and bluffing, as deception was second nature to Davros's children, he also knew he couldn't take the chance. Maybe, in another universe, in another life, he would. However, Zoe was down there. She was probably in the same room as Bracewell. He couldn't risk being wrong if it meant losing her. He had never been very good at risking her life.

"You're lying," he said but it didn't matter, not really.

" _His power is derived from an Oblivion Continuum. Call off your attack or we will detonate the android_."

He bowed his head and his face contorted with anger and frustration. Once again, the Daleks were slipping from between his fingers, able to survive another day to try and rebuild their empire while he continued through the universe with the knowledge that Gallifrey would never return. Zoe was right – they were like cockroaches. He picked up the radio, ignoring the Dalek as it continued on telling him that the Earth will shatter and humans will die screaming, belabouring the point somewhat.

The countdown began.

"The Doctor to Danny Boy," he said heavily. "The Doctor to Danny Boy. Withdraw."

There was a crackle and a hiss. " _Say again, sir. Over_."

"Withdraw. Return to Earth. Over and out."

" _But, sir_ -"

"There's no time. Return to Earth now. Over and out."

He released the radio, and it bobbed up and down on its black spiral cord. He quickly threw the TARDIS into the dematerialisation sequence, hurrying his girl along. The thought of Zoe standing next to an armed bomb made his hearts hurt and his blood run like ice through his veins. As soon as the TARDIS landed, he hurled himself out through the doors and sprinted down through the corridors and into the main room. He caught sight of Zoe who was, sure enough, standing next to Bracewell. She turned with a pleased smile dawning across her face.

The Doctor drew back his fist and punched Bracewell. "Ow! _Titanium_! Ow!"

"Doctor!" Zoe exclaimed, a horrified expression of surprise on her face. "What the hell?"

"Sorry, professor," he apologised to Bracewell, who was sprawled on the ground, shaking the pain from his hand. He looked at Zoe and pointed at the fallen man. "An inconceivably massive Dalek bomb."

Bracewell looked bewildered. "What?"

"What?" Zoe repeated.

"There's an Oblivion Continuum inside you," the Doctor explained, dropping to his knees at the man's side – for he was a man, regardless of how he was made. "A captured wormhole that provides perpetual power. Detonate that and the Earth will bleed through into another dimension. Now stay down."

Zoe dropped down to kneel at Bracewell's head, drawing it into her lap as the Doctor started working on the man's torso with his sonic screwdriver.

"Can you deactivate it?" She asked quietly.

"Hope so," he said, not looking at her.

"Do you even know how to deactivate bombs?"

"You pick a few things up over the centuries," he said, peeling the skin back to display five blue segments that created a circle. Ominously, one segment started to turn yellow. "Admittedly, I've never actually seen an Oblivion Continuum before."

"Can we get him into the TARDIS?" She asked, hands on either side of Bracewell's head to keep him still and to anchor him. His body was twitchy with his panic. "Get him off Earth?"

He shook his head. "It'll be even worse if he blows up in the TARDIS."

"So, what? They've wired him up to detonate?" Amy asked, kneeling at Bracewell's other side, surrounding him by concerned time travellers.

"Oh no, not wired him up. He is a bomb," the Doctor said, working hard to try to stop the progression of the bomb. "Walking, talking, exploding, the moment that -" he pointed at the segmented circle, "flashes red."

"There's a blue wire or something you have to cut, isn't there?" Amy asked, slipping her hand into Bracewell's and smiling reassuringly down at him even as her words were filled with fear and nervousness. "There's always a blue wire. Or a red one."

He stared at her. "You're not helping."

"It's incredible," Churchill observed from behind the table. "He talked to us about his memories. The Great War."

"Someone else's stolen thoughts, implanted in a positronic brain," the Doctor explained before giving up the sonic screwdriver for lost. "Tell me about it. Bracewell. Tell me about your life. Tell me. _Prove_ you're human. Tell me everything."

Bracewell's eyes moved back and forth rapidly, his pupils dancing around the room in fear, but he focused and tried.

"My family ran the Post Office," he started, fear making his voice shake. "It's a little place just near the abbey, just by the ash trees. There used to be eight trees but there was a storm..."

"And your parents?" The Doctor urged. "Come on, tell me."

"Good people. Kind people." A tear slid down his cheek. "They died. Scarlet fever."

"What was that like? How did it feel?" He asked urgently, remembering how he had used his pain to remember he was alive after the War. "How did it make you feel, Edwin? Tell me. Tell me now."

Bracewell's face contracted with grief, tears slipping down his cheeks and into Zoe's hands. "It hurt. It hurt, Doctor, it hurt so badly. It was like a wound. I though it was worse than a wound. Like I'd been emptied out. There was nothing left."

There were only two blue segments remaining on his chest.

"Good. Remember it now, Edwin," the Doctor encouraged, wondering if Zoe and Amy would have time to get to the TARDIS if he sent them away then and there. He knew Zoe wouldn't leave though. In his hearts he knew that, and if Zoe stayed, Amy stayed. "The ash trees by the Post Office, and your mum and dad, and losing them, and men in the trenches you saw die. Remember it. Feel it. You feel it because you're human. You're not like them. You're not like the Daleks."

"It hurts, Doctor. It hurts so much," Bracewell sobbed, twisting his body as though he could escape the pain.

"Good. Good, good, brilliant," he enthused urgently. "Embrace it. That means you're alive. They cannot explode that bomb because you're a human being. You are flesh and blood. They cannot explode that bomb. Believe it. You are Professor Edwin Bracewell, and you, my friend, are a human being."

"Stop, stop!" Zoe said as the last segment started to turn yellow. "It's not workin'. It's not workin' because Daleks know pain an' hatred." She hovered her face over Bracewell. "Hey, professor, you ever been in love?"

"What?" He stuttered fearfully.

"Love," she repeated with a soft smile. "It hurts, doesn't it? But kind of a good hurt, right?"

"I - I really shouldn't talk about her," he said, his eyes darting back and forth, a blush rising on his cheeks.

"Oh," Amy teased with a smile at Bracewell's blush, catching onto Zoe's thought process. "There's a her."

Zoe laughed softly. "Isn't there always?"

"What was her name?" The Doctor asked, trusting Zoe to know what was right.

"Dorabella," Bracewell whispered the name like a pledge of love on the wind.

"Dorabella?" The Doctor repeated incredulously, and Zoe shot him a stern look. He quickly corrected his tone. "It's a lovely name. It's a beautiful name."

"What was she like, Edwin?" Amy asked.

"Oh, such a smile." His own smile started to creep across his face, transforming it from panicked and afraid to soft and gentle. "And her eyes. Her eyes were so blue. Almost violet, like the last touch of sunset on the edge of the world." He closed his eyes and imagined her face before him. "Dorabella."

Without warning, all the segments returned to blue. The tension leaked from the room, and Zoe pulled her hand back and released a breath, smiling at the Doctor. He grinned at both her and Amy, relief wrapping around him. He clapped Bracewell on the shoulder.

"Welcome to the human race," he said with a smile.

"You'll be great," Zoe grinned down at him, and Bracewell looked up at her and laughed delightedly, giddy from the adrenaline. She looked away from him to the Doctor, pleasure fading a little. "What about the Daleks?"

"It's too late," Bracewell answered for him, sitting up from Zoe's lap. "They're gone. I - I can feel it. They're gone."

Although he knew that would be the case, the Doctor couldn't help but feel cheated at having lost to the Daleks once again.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

It took a while for the dust to settle.

The Doctor had to strip the Dalek technology out of the spitfires much to Churchill's disappointment, and Zoe and Amy went through all of Bracewell's files to make sure that there was nothing that shouldn't be there. Eventually, it was time for them to leave. Churchill seemed somewhat bemused by her request for a picture but she simply tossed her phone at the Doctor and told him to take one – he did so with a long-suffering expression on his face. She flashed the V for victory sign next to the Prime Minister who walked away simply laughing to himself. Whilst the Doctor's back was turned - for she was certain he wouldn't approve - Zoe dragged Amy in, their cheeks pressed together, and she snapped a quick selfie of them; they were grinning when he turned back around, and he narrowed his eyes at them.

"What?"

"Nothing," they said together, but the Doctor just looked suspicious.

"Right, well, then." He clapped his hands together, limbs going in every direction. "Pond, head on back to the TARDIS. I'm going to walk Zoe out to the car."

"Hold up," Zoe said, dropping her phone back into her pocket at his words. "Why can't you just give me a lift? The TARDIS is right here."

"Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey," he answered. She stared at him, not sure of the words that just come out of his mouth. He winced, hearing them for the first time himself. "Oh, haven't said that in this body. That feels strange." He ran his tongue over his teeth and stretched his mouth out. "Anyway, can't you have inside the TARDIS. Spoilers and all that. Who knows what the old girl will tell you if she gets you inside."

"All right." She rolled her eyes although she was not buying his excuses for a minute. She turned away from him and to Amy, holding her arms out for a hug. The two women embraced tightly; Amy had to bend a little to hug her properly as she was bit taller than Zoe was. "It was really great to meet you. It's good to know I've got a friend like you to look forward to in my future."

Amy blushed and grinned at her. "It's been fun, professor...a little weird but mainly fun. See you soon."

Zoe gave her a little wave and watched Amy walk down the corridor to where the TARDIS she wasn't allowed into was parked. She wondered how long it would be before she saw Amelia Pond again; she hoped it wasn't too long. She glanced to her side and saw that the tweed-clad Doctor was holding his hand out to her. She slipped her palm into his, her fingers slotting neatly between his, hand no longer unfamiliar to her. Churchill, or rather one of his officers, had arranged for a car to take her back to where it had picked her up from – on the corner near where her TARDIS was parked.

The sun was beginning to brighten the sky on another day that London had survived the Germans. According to the Doctor, whatever he and Rose had been doing elsewhere in London had reached its conclusion. It would have been quicker to just take the TARDIS but the Doctor had a babble of excuses as to why that was a bad idea when she brought it up again, and so she resigned herself to another car journey.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked through the underground bunker. He seemed more relaxed than he had been through most of their adventure, but he also seemed distracted with lines of worry creased around his eyes.

"You're worried," she said softly so it was just between the two of them.

He looked over at her and seemed sadly resigned.

"I am," he confessed just as quietly.

"The Daleks?" She asked, giving his hand a squeeze, covering it with her free one, their shoulders bumping together.

"No, well, yes, but no."

Her lips twitched. "That clears things up then, thanks."

He gave her a wonky smile that she realised she liked.

"Sorry," he apologised. "It's just...I'm always worried about the Daleks, but I'm more worried about Amy. She doesn't remember the things she should remember, and I don't know why."

"You'll figure it out," Zoe reassured him. "Or at least you an' me will in, what, five years? No, wait, I'm a professor. Better make that – ten years?"

He laughed, his mood lightening. "Nice try."

"Worth a shot," she shrugged, feeling light and happy.

The knowledge that the Daleks weren't as dead as the Doctor had believed them to be was information to be dealt with at a later time. Now that it was over she wanted to see her sister again, and she wanted to see her leather-clad Northern Doctor if only to remind herself of what was normal. The fact that _that_ was her new normal gave her pause for thought briefly. She passed through the door that he held open for her. She stepped outside and breathed in deeply.

The bombs had left a burning, dusty smell in the air but, beneath that, it was the smell of London, which was always the smell of home.

"Don't suppose I can get a picture of you, can I?" She asked him, half-hoping but half-resigned to the fact that he would say no.

To her surprise, he stepped back from her and spread his arms wide.

"Go on then," he said, smiling at her. "Just don't show it to anyone."

Delighted, Zoe removed her phone and brought it up in front of her face, trying to frame him perfectly within. He smiled for the camera, and she laughed as she took the picture. He looked particularly handsome framed by the pale morning light. He glanced at the picture and hummed his approval before snatching the phone from her hands and dragging her against him, arm around her waist. His arm was longer than hers, and he stretched it out in front of them.

"Smile, love," he said, voice soft and warm against her ear.

He caught her mid-laugh, his lips smacking a wet kiss against her cheek. She pushed him away, laughing.

"You're an idiot," she said fondly.

"Yet you still stick around," he grinned, dropping the phone back into her pocket and glancing over at the car; the light mirth of the situation faded a little.

"I guess this is it then," Zoe said, looking out to the car waiting for her at the side of the road where an officer, different from the previous night, stood at attention next to it.

"You'll see me soon enough," the Doctor said, easily reading her sudden reluctance to leave. "I'm waiting for you where we landed. In fact, I'm actually getting a bit impatient. My Zoe left about an hour ago. She should be in the TARDIS with Amy as we speak."

"Does it ever get easier?" She asked him abruptly. "Understandin' time travel? Because my head feels like it's goin' to -"

The hand that wasn't in his mimed an explosion.

"Get him to show you the books on the fourth dimension," he replied. "You're smart enough. You'll be able to make sense of them without his help. It becomes a little easier then."

"More studying, great."

"You love studying," the Doctor said with a laugh. " _Professor_."

A wide grin stretched across her face. "I do like knowin' that. It sounds kind of cool - Professor Tyler. Professor of what exactly?"

He tapped the side of his nose with his free hand. "Spoilers."

"I'm beginning to hate that word," she said. He laughed again, pulling her in close to embrace her. She looped her arm around his waist and looked up at him.

"I know the feeling." His eyes were a lovely mix of blue and green, and they were looking down at her with such warm affection. Running into her future self was weird and off-putting, but she liked the idea of occasionally running into a future version of the Doctor if only to see the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. "I never expected to see you this young again. It's been nice."

"It has," she agreed. "I mean I could've done without the Daleks -"

"Oh, definitely."

"But I wouldn't have missed this," she said; he smiled, soft and happy. His face was built for happiness. "So I've got one more question..."

He groaned but his mouth formed a reluctant smile because _of course she had one more question_. "Zo, come on."

"I'm pretty sure I already know the answer to it though," she began slowly, her heart beating painfully in her chest. Despite her certainty, there was still a seed of doubt within her that she might be wrong and she was about to thoroughly embarrass herself. "In my future...you an' me...just how close are we?"

The intensity of his gaze made her want to look away but not as much as she wanted answers, so she held his eyes and waited. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and her eyes flicked to his mouth. She watched him form his words.

"You're my best friend," he said with a deep, rich voice that made her blood thicken in her veins.

She breathed slow and calm. There was more, she knew there was more.

"An'?"

"And I can't imagine my life without you," he said honestly, watching her understand the words that he wasn't saying.

They slipped under her skin and warmed her from the inside out, her cheeks dusted with pink. She had never told him about this conversation: not when she got back and not at any point in the years afterwards. Then again, he never told her about the conversation he had had with her future self either.

"Doctor..." she started before pausing, not knowing where to take the rest of that sentence.

She raised her lovely brown eyes to his. He gently stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers leaving tiny bursts of electricity in his wake. His own Zoe was waiting for him in the TARDIS - the Zoe who shared with him things that the young woman in front of him couldn't begin to comprehend. Still, there was something magical about having her, the Zoe of his memories, in his arms and looking up at him the way she was. He had forgotten how powerful that was.

"You should go," he said quietly.

"You have to say goodbye first," she pointed out, voice barely a whisper. He was not a strong man when it came to her; he never had been.

He bowed his head, and Zoe felt her body tighten with anticipation. Her eyes fluttered closed as his mouth brushed lightly against hers. Not even Frelin had been able to make her feel so open and loved. She could feel his breath against her cheek. Her heart thundered so loudly in her chest that she worried he would hear it. He murmured her name so tenderly that she rose up a little on her toes and took control by kissing him properly with a confidence that came from the foundation of their friendship. Their mouths fit together perfectly. He made a small sound in the back of his throat, his arm tightening around her waist, as they kissed slowly and gently. She shivered when she tasted the tip of his tongue against hers, and her body flamed with heat that raced up and down her nervous system.

She wanted to pull him to her and kiss him harder again and again until they were breathless with it. He kissed her like he knew her, like they had shared hundreds and hundreds of kisses over the years, and the very thought sent a wave of heat through her that settled deep in the pit of her stomach. She pressed in closer to him, lust and desire pounding behind her eyes and between her legs; when he gently pulled back, she let out a soft cry of disappointment. His cheeks were slashed with red and his mouth looked soft and wet. Half-formed thoughts of what he could do with that mouth made her cheeks burn red. She tasted him on her mouth and swayed in his arms, feeling a little like the women in the soap operas that Rose watched.

"Not goodbye," the Doctor whispered in the small space between their mouths. "Never goodbye. Just...see you around, Zoe Tyler."

She was breathing heavily but she couldn't find it within herself to be embarrassed.

"Until next time then," she said hoarsely. She must have said something that pleased him because his kissed mouth stretched into a wide smile and his eyes softened further.

"See you in a few minutes," he promised and, unable to resist her, pressed one more kiss to her lips before releasing her.

Cold washed over her and highlighted how hot her face was. She memorised his appearance before taking a step back. Turning her back on him to walk to the car was difficult to do but she managed it, hands shaking as she walked with something that had nothing to do with the cold. The officer, who had been politely ignoring their goodbye, opened the back door for her; she slid into the back seat so that she could look out of the window. The Doctor stood where she had left him, and he raised one hand in farewell. She pressed her fingers to the window. She would see him again some day; she didn't know how long but the knowledge that she would comforted her.

The knowledge that, at some point in her future, the two of them were in love was a strange and wonderful feeling that she held tight to her chest for fear of it disappearing. As the car pulled away from the curb she watched him until he disappeared from sight, she sat back and was struck by a feeling of loss that she didn't fully understand yet.

* * *

"Zoe, you're back!"

Rose leapt off the jump seat where she had been chewing her thumbnail waiting for her sister's return whilst the Doctor leaned against the console with his arms folded and a deep frown on his face that grew deeper the longer he was made to wait. She didn't know what Future Zoe had said to him outside of the TARDIS after saying goodbye to Rose but, whatever it was, it had put him into a funny mood. That mood disappeared though when the TARDIS door opened under a key and the Zoe they were used to stepped inside wearing a grey coat and a smile. Her sister laughed as Rose threw herself into her arms and hugged her tightly, using her foot to close the door to 1941 behind them.

"You spent all night with me," Zoe said through the mess of Rose's hair before her sister released her.

"Not the same," Rose declared, drinking in the sight of her. Whilst it had been fascinating to see Future Zoe and see the woman her sister would become, it remained an objectively strange thing to experience. "It was really, really weird."

"I know the feelin'," she said knowingly, eyes sparkling as she smiled up at the Doctor, cheeks a little pink as she could still taste him on her mouth. "Hello, Doctor. Miss me?"

"I've just spent the whole night with you," he said, and Zoe snorted before stepping up into his personal space and wrapping her arms around her. He briefly stiffened with surprise, hugging her back. "Good night?"

"It was interestin'," she hedged when she pulled back. She dug into her pocket and removed her phone, sliding past the pictures of her and the Doctor, and her and Amy; she held it out to them. "Met Winston Churchill."

They both leaned in to look at the picture of her and Churchill. The Doctor nodded his approval.

"Good man, Winston," he said. "Did he try to steal the TARDIS key?"

"Of course," she said, pocketing her phone again. "So what happened with you two? Solve the mystery of the crashin' space ship?"

"Yes, we did," the Doctor said, looking at the two girls; Future Zoe had been interesting and wonderful and a terrifying glimpse at his own future whilst also comforting him that at least she would be sticking around for a while longer than his friends usually did, but he was pleased to have his Zoe back. "Can't tell you though. You're going to have to wait."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she sighed, her eyes rolling. "Spoilers."

Apparently he eventually got his own back on her for constantly spouting the word _spoilers_ with a cheeky, knowing smile every time he asked a question.

"Right, now that we're all linearly back together, shall we push off?" He asked, moving towards the console, eager to get underway and shake off the strange feeling that the night had left him with.

"Doctor, wait," Rose said even as he started the dematerialisation process. "What about Jack? Why'd he say goodbye?"

He fiddled with a knob and avoided her eyes. He had had plenty of time to think about the flashy Time Agent who had got under his skin by flirting with both of his girls, both of whom seemed to enjoy it and the way it irritated him.

"His ship won't be able to keep the bomb in stasis for long," he said, "and it's likely to detonate if he tries to jettison it. One way trip, Rose."

Rose looked horrified; even Zoe looked put out.

"But - no, that's not right," Rose protested. "Zoe knew him. Other Zoe. Future Zoe, I mean. She was as happy to see him as she was to see us. He can't die today."

The Doctor started when he felt a finger poke him in the side, slipping past his leather jacket to get his sweater covered chest. He looked down. Zoe frowned up at him.

"Don't be a dope," she said. "Let's go save him."

He looked between the two sisters - _everybody lives_.

"We're not keeping him," he warned but he knew that it was a losing battle.

Rose brightened up, and her smile was wide and brilliant. "C'mon, Doctor. He was pretty useful. Not like Adam, at all."

"Rose," the Doctor said with long-suffering patience as he started to pilot the TARDIS. "It was his fault that everything happened."

"Can we maybe have this argument after we save a man from going boom?" Zoe asked with a sigh, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it up on the coat stand by the door that she was always amazed remained standing despite the various turbulent landings the Doctor performed. "Honestly, the two of you need to sort out your priorities."

"Alright, Hermione," the Doctor scoffed, and she threw him a filthy look – she had known she would regret telling him to read the Harry Potter series. Her list of quotable things he didn't understand went down by about 80% because he had actually seen Star Trek, at least The Original Series. She was certain he was watching the others just to annoy her. "Get the door, would you?"

She stepped across and opened the door. For once, the Doctor had done a good job parking the TARDIS. The doors opened directly into the space ship and there was a extremely handsome, bewildered-looking man holding a Martini in one hand. Dying with a drink in his hand – she liked his style. She hung halfway out of the door and smiled at him.

"Jack?"

"Zoe?"

"You want to come onboard?" She asked him, jerking her thumb over her shoulder, and his eyes slid past her and widened at the sheer depth of what he saw. "The Doctor says your ship is goin' to blow up soon. You'll probably be safer over here."

To the man's credit, he threw back his Martini before hurrying after her and jumping neatly into the TARDIS. She shut the door behind him and grinned up at his expression. It was always fun to see people's reactions to the inside of the TARDIS. She wondered what her own face had looked like when she had stepped on board three and a half months before - memorable enough that the Doctor remembered her first reaction years later.

The Doctor worked at the console and they didn't even feel the shock wave of the explosion as they were whisked into the Time Vortex.

"Welcome to the TARDIS," he said gruffly.

"It's bigger on the inside," Jack said with a gesture of his fingers; he seemed relaxed but confusion still lined his handsome face.

"You'd better be," the Doctor warned, and Zoe frowned at him from behind Jack's arm.

He avoided her eyes and so she slipped around Jack who smelt absolutely incredible. She tried not to sniff him, as she was aware that it was a rude and strange thing to do but she would have to ask him about it at some point. She wondered if it was cologne.

"Hi," she said brightly, sticking her hand out and cutting through the tension the Doctor had created with his ill-chosen words. "I haven't met you yet. I'm Zoe Tyler, Rose's sister."

"Yes, I know," Jack said, eyes taking in the differences between now and the last time he had seen her. He took her offered hand. "We spent the last few hours together."

"That was Future Zoe," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "She was from the future. I'm the Zoe who's meant to be here, linearly that is. It's been a bit...wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey tonight for me."

"Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey?" The Doctor spluttered, disgust painting his face. "Where did you learn that?"

"So this is my first time meetin' you," she continued, happily ignoring the Doctor behind her. "So...hi!"

As a Time Agent, Jack was used to occasionally meeting people out of order but never in such quick succession; months or years typically passed between meetings. Still, he was easily adaptable. He raised her hand to his lips.

"Then it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Zoe Tyler," he said smoothly, and his voice was rich and intoxicating. "Captain Jack Harkness."

"Blimey." She breathed, pink in the cheeks. "You really are extremely attractive. When are you from?"

"The 51st century."

"Are all the blokes like you there?" She asked him interestedly. "Because I suddenly want to make a visit."

"Alright, that's enough," the Doctor grumbled irritably, forcing his body between the two and scooping Zoe away from the captain. Jealousy bit at him but he put that down to the fact that Future Zoe had recently manhandled him against the door of the TARDIS and snogged him senseless and seeing her younger self become doe-eyed for Jack was a little bit too soon. "She's seventeen years old, captain."

Jack held his hands up in good-natured defeat. "Duly noted."

"God, you're like an overprotective dad," Zoe muttered and later she would realise how easy it was to forget how her heart had pounded in her chest when the Doctor kissed her.

Both of them were slipping back into their normal relationship as though nothing had changed and perhaps that was for the best. After all, the future wasn't going anywhere.

"Both of you are doing my head in." Rose told them from the jump seat. "Honestly, you've been arguin' all night."

"Not me, I wasn't here," Zoe said, slipping out from under the Doctor's arm, and she flashed a grin at Jack. "Don't worry. You'll get used to us."

"He's not staying!" The Doctor exclaimed, and his hearts sank at the look on the girls' faces. "I mean it. No."

"You're stayin'," Zoe and Rose said to Jack in unison, and their new friend simply tossed his head back and laughed in delight at how they steamrolled the Doctor.

The Doctor pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Fine. I know when I'm beat." He pointed a finger at Jack. "There are rules though. I don't know what they are yet but they are there." He glanced at Zoe, swinging her legs happily on the jump seat. "Rule one - no flirting with Zoe. She's technically still a child, and don't think I won't have you arrested."

"Watch who you're calling a child, old man." Zoe said conversationally with just the right amount of threat in her words to make him shift just a little bit away from her. "Flirt away, captain."

"No flirting."

"I'd just like to say that I'm okay with the flirtin'," Rose said with her hand raised, and Jack was shaking hard from his silent laughter.

"Humans," the Doctor sighed. "You're all awful."

* * *

Zoe stood under the spray of hot water and groaned at the welcome pressure against her sore muscles. Her muscles ached and her neck felt stiff. She had excused herself from showing Jack around; although, it wasn't as though he needed her. Rose was quite happy to link arms with him and pull him deeper into the TARDIS. If they didn't have sex at some point then Zoe didn't know her sister at all. Not that she would blame Rose; Jack Harkness was handsome and charming and quite intelligent, making him a significant step up from most of the men that Rose fell for. They had left the Doctor muttering to himself in the console room. If he had really been against Jack's presence, then Jack would already be off the TARDIS. He just liked a good grumble.

A yawn cracked her jaw open, and her eyes squeezed shut against the strength of it.

Mauve alert had happened in the late afternoon the day before, which meant that she had been awake for nearly twenty-four hours. Plus, she had also had to deal with Daleks, which was exhausting in and of itself. She turned the shower off and pulled her shower cap from her head, hanging it up on the side. Her bathroom was steamy but she reached for her towel and patted her face dry before wrapping it around herself. She stepped out into her bedroom and jumped in surprise.

"Jesus!" She exclaimed, hand flattened against her chest, clutching at the towel to keep it from falling and revealing more than she cared to. "Doctor, you scared me."

The Doctor was sat on the edge of her bed like a particularly glum version of Death. He held up a plate that contained a sandwich.

"I thought you might be hungry."

She stared at him, measuring his mood. "How long have you been there?"

"Twenty minutes," he said. "I thought you'd be out sooner."

"Yeah, well..." she floundered for words, conscious that she was only wearing a towel. She knew he had already seen her naked but those were under extenuating circumstances and her feelings for him were all confused after the night she had just had. "Give me a sec."

She quickly grabbed her pyjamas from her chest of drawers and disappeared back into her bathroom. She should have expected him to visit her. He had done it every night since Tolandra, of course he would want to check in on her after their unusual night. She hurriedly dressed and rubbed some moisturiser onto her face and down her neck, wiping the excess off on her forearms. She stepped back out, and he was exactly where she had left him. Sometimes his loneliness took her breath away and made her chest hurt. She comforted herself with the thought of how happy he seemed in the future with her and Amy and his TARDIS.

"Thanks for this," Zoe said, scooting back so that she could sit with her back against the headboard. She patted his usual spot next to her and there was an easing of tension in the lines around his eyes. He pulled off his boots and sat next to her. She bit into her sandwich whilst he got comfortable. "I didn't realise I was so hungry."

"Just try not to throw it up," he requested, getting comfortable. "I'll give you another anti-nausea injection in the morning."

She gave him a thumbs up, her mouth full.

He let her eat in peace, and it took her a few minutes to demolish the sandwich; he was incapable of making normal sized sandwiches, not that she minded as he made the best chicken sandwiches. She set her plate to one side and lifted his arm up so that she could rest against his chest, his arm settling around her shoulders. The _thump-thump-thump-thump_ of his heart was soothing, and she felt sleep start to pull at her but she had a few questions she wanted answered first, and she imagined the Doctor did as well.

She tugged on his hand. "You go first."

"First?"

"I know you've got questions," she said, tilting her head back to look up at him. His eyes were a very clear and bright blue, not at all like the ones she saw before she kissed him. "So go on then."

His mouth curled in an amused smile. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied. "A little sore. I think I pushed it too much tonight, but I've only just realised it. My neck is going to be awful in the mornin'."

He looked a little concerned. "And your...adventure?"

"Spoilers," she told him. "But it worked out okay-ish."

"Ish?"

Future Zoe was very clear that certain things should not be shared with people, including the Doctor. It was important to avoid too much knowledge of the future because then things could be changed and important things might not come to pass. Time travel involved walking a fine line of knowing when and where it was safe to travel, not that the Doctor seemed to pay much attention to that. Neither he nor Future Zoe had told her what she could and couldn't tell his past self about her night. She could just assume a blanket ban and not tell him anything and what would come to pass would come to pass with or without her intervention.

However, it was the Daleks, and 1941 wouldn't be the first time they saw them again after Utah. She wasn't sure she could forgive herself if she knew that they were coming and she never told the Doctor.

She wasn't sure if he would forgive her for her silence.

"I'm not sure how to tell you what I need to tell you," she admitted honestly after a long period of silence. "Because I know it's goin' to hurt you, an' I don't want to do that."

"Rip off the plaster," he reminded her. She drew her top lip between her teeth, shifting so that she could see his face properly; her knees rested on the top of his thighs.

"Okay," she said on a sigh. The least she could do was to meet his eyes. "The Daleks aren't dead."

His entire body stilled. "What?"

"I've just spent the last night trying to stop the Daleks from destroyin' the Earth," Zoe said carefully, resting her hand on his chest to feel the beats of his heart against her palm. "We were wrong. The Daleks didn't end in Van Statten's bunker. There were more. I don't know how, an' I don't know why but...they survived."

Time seemed to expand and contract around them as he processed the information she gave him. His face was impossible to read. He looked as though he was a statue carved from marble, icy and distant. She waited, her heart beating anxiously in her chest, and her mind twisting and whirling, wondering if she had made the right decision to tell him. She wished she could tell time the way he could because it felt like hours before he spoke again. His voice was hoarse, and there was a crack in his marble mask and unfathomable grief and rage spilled through.

"It was all for nothing," the Doctor said with such a sound of heavy defeat that she wanted to bow her head against his chest and cry for him. "Everything I did...all those people I killed...it was all for nothing."

She didn't have the words or the experience to say anything helpful or comforting to him, and so she just curled her body in against his side. Her arms stretched around him and her legs tangled with his. The least she could do was hold him as tight as he held her when her nightmares tore through her sleeping mind. Her questions could wait for another night. They weren't going anywhere. As he dealt with his emotions silently, nose buried in her faintly banana scented hair, she fell asleep with her head on his chest.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

The first thing the Doctor did when everyone was rested and fed was to take Zoe to her therapy appointment on Reylar, a beautiful ocean planet in the Andromeda galaxy that was renowned for its mental health care and accompanying facilities. If Jack was surprised by the unusual visit, he didn't let on. He stepped out of the TARDIS with them and shielded his eyes from the sunlight that reflected off the glittering blue oceans. There was no landmass on Reylar: the inhabitants lived on purpose built platforms that fed into the ecosystem of the ocean around them. He still wore his World War Two coat, thick and blue, but his uniform had been pared down to a white shirt, braces, and trousers.

"Oh, this is lovely," Rose said, breathing in deeply, slipping her arm through her sister's and leaning into her. It was a little too early in the day for Rose but the beauty of an alien planet around them helped to wake her up. "You been here before, Jack?"

"I've never been out of the Milky War before," Jack admitted, looking at the Doctor, curiously impressed, which only fed into the other man's ego. "I didn't even know inter-galaxy travel was possible outside of generation ships."

"You're travelling first class now, captain," the Doctor said, preening a little as he patted the side of his ship. "There's nowhere and no- _when_ in the universe we can't go."

"Which begs the question of how?"

"Hell, if you can understand the answer to that question, you're a better man than me," Zoe said, jerking her thumb at the Doctor. "This one doesn't know how to dumb down his answers for us apes. Just think of it like magic: a big blue box of magic."

"Don't think of it like magic," the Doctor said briskly. "It's science."

 _Magic_ Zoe mouthed at Jack, making him laugh.

He thought he was going to enjoy travelling with the three of them for as long as the Doctor suffered having him on board. With his ship destroyed and two years of his memories still missing, Jack didn't have any better offers – not that he suspected there would be any offers that could beat the one he had accidentally stumbled into by the grace of two 21st century girls. Rose had told him a little about how she and Zoe had come to travel with the Doctor the previous night but she had said very little about who their mysterious alien benefactor actually was.

"Are you sure we're in the right time, Doctor?" Rose asked, and he looked at her, irritation flashing across his face but she blithely ignored him. She looked up at Jack instead. "He has a habit of landin' us in the wrong time. He said he was going to bring me home twelve hours later, turned out it was twelve months."

Jack winced at that miscalculation.

"This is the right time," the Doctor said, voice just the wrong side of sharp.

"Are you sure?" Zoe asked, and Jack was sure the Doctor would snap at her but his stern face softened and his voice turned kind and gentle when he spoke to her. It surprised Jack with how tender it sounded.

"I'm positive," he reassured her. "I triple checked before I opened the door. Do you want me to check again?"

She shook her head. "I trust you."

The Doctor appeared touched by that and offered his arm to her. Unwinding herself from Rose, she took it.

"Alright, Rose," he said. "Try and keep Captain Flash out of trouble. Captain, her safety is your responsibility."

Jack snapped off a salute that left the Doctor scowling.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" Rose asked her sister, worry creeping into her tone. "I really don't mind."

"Honestly, it's fine," Zoe replied. "You'd be bored waitin' for me. We'll see you guys later."

"Bye, Zoe," Jack said with a smile. "Good luck."

"Thanks," she said as she flashed him a smile that was tired around the edges, worry creeping into her eyes, fingers playing with the Doctor's leather sleeve. They walked off in one direction, leaving Rose and Jack standing outside of the TARDIS staring after them.

After a while, Rose snapped herself out of her distracted state and grabbed Jack's hand, pulling him along behind her whilst talking rapidly about a boat tour she wanted to take. Over breakfast the Doctor had pushed brochures of Kusan, the capital city of the country they were landing in, towards them and told them to do something to occupy themselves for the day. Jack easily kept up with Rose, her dyed-blonde hair bright beneath the warm sun. They got to the port early enough that they were able to choose the best seats on the open-decked boat. He sat with one arm behind her as she perused the brochure that he did a double take at.

"I can read this!" Jack exclaimed, plucking the brochure from her hands and staring at it in amazement. "How can I read this? We're in a completely different galaxy."

Rose laughed at him, warm and friendly.

"That's the TARDIS," she explained. "She gets into your head an' translates alien languages for you. You'll hear everythin' an' read everythin' in your native language."

"Like a Babel fish," Jack said, delighted; her smile widened. "That's brilliant."

"You're reactin' better than I did," she admitted. "When the Doctor told me the TARDIS was in my head, I yelled at him."

"Bet he loved that."

"Well, he did shout back," she said with a small, dismissive shrug. "Zoe loved it though. She got really excited about bein' able to understand all sorts of languages. She's such a nerd."

"Nerd?" Jack asked. "What's that?"

She blinked at him.

"It's - er - it's someone who likes to study, I s'pose," Rose said. "Or someone who's good at school. Don't you have nerds where your from?"

"Probably," he said. "But it's been - what? 3000 years between our times? I guess the language has changed a bit."

She rolled her eyes. "Save this kind of talk for Zo, captain. She'll eat it up."

He smiled before asking the question that had been on his mind since the Doctor told them the plan for the day. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Is Zoe okay?" Jack asked, and the openness of Rose's face disappeared slightly. "She said she had a therapy appointment...far be it from me to wade into whatever issues she has going on, I just want to be sure I don't trigger her."

It was Rose's turn to be confused. "Trigger?"

"I don't want to say something that exacerbates whatever she's dealing with," he explained, and her mouth formed a small _o_ of understanding. "If you can't tell me, that's fine – I just don't want to do something that negatively affects her."

"It's fine," Rose said, touched by his concern for her sister. "She said I could tell you if you asked: figured you'd be a little bit curious."

He held his thumb and forefinger a short distance apart. "Just a little."

"About a month ago, we visited this planet," Rose explained, her heart beating a little harder in her chest. It was difficult to explain it to someone who hadn't been there; it was difficult to put into words how terrifying the whole situation had been. "You might've heard of it actually...Tolandra?"

"Yeah, of course," Jack said. "It's the economic centre of the galaxy. Everyone knows about Tolandra."

"Then you know a little of its history as well?" She asked him, and he nodded. "Well, the Doctor's a bit shit about landin' when he's supposed to. He accidentally landed us in the middle of the revolution when off-worlders were bein' arrested. Zoe an' the Doctor were picked up in the purges. The Doctor was sent to prison after his interrogation but Zoe – Zoe looks like she's a Tolandran; they thought she was part of the rebellion an' they...they..."

Her words failed her, and she pressed her fists to her eyes. Jack's hand was warm and comforting on the back of her neck.

"It's okay," he said softly. "You don't have to tell me."

She shook her head. "They tortured her...for a week. When the Doctor an' I finally got to her – God, it was awful...what they did to her; I see it every night. She's my little sister, an' I'm supposed to keep her safe but they...they just _hurt_ her."

"Come here," Jack said gently, drawing her against his chest. She pressed her damp eyes into his shoulder, embarrassed at her emotions but grateful for the support as the Doctor was so busy making sure that Zoe was okay that Rose had slipped through the gaps. "It's okay to cry, Rose."

She choked on her sobs but the solid warmth of his body and his gentle hands on her back were just enough to send her over the edge. She clutched at the lapels of his coat and sobbed her helplessness and anger over what happened to her sister into his chest beneath the bright morning light of Reylar.

* * *

Her first therapy session left her feeling dry and wrung out.

The Doctor half-carried her from the office after exchanging quiet, murmured words with her therapist Yatta En-Lei, who had clearly said enough to reassure the protective Time Lord. He managed to work her pliant body out of the building and onto the street where he proceeded to deposit her in a chair at the nearest café; he caught the eye of a server and ordered a pot of hot tea and two pieces of cake: chocolate for her, banana for him. He let her drink her tea and eat her cake, which helped to bring some colour back into her face and some strength back into her body. She passed a hand over her eyes and rubbed at the dry, sore skin there with her thumbs.

She looked exhausted.

"I didn't know it was possible to cry that much," Zoe said, her voice hoarse and broken. "I'm not sure how I'm not dehydrated."

"You probably are," the Doctor said. "At least a little bit. The tea will help though. Tannins, they're good for you."

"You're babblin'," she pointed, out and he clamped his mouth shut. "You don't have to worry about me so much, y'know?"

"That's like asking Time to stop," he said softly. "Not going to happen."

Her face contorted and, for a moment, they both thought she was going to cry again; instead, she released a shaky breath.

"Fuck," she swore. "I'm all over the fuckin' place."

"That's normal," he told her, and he reached out and picked up her hand to hold it in his. "After Gallifrey died..." he breathed in deeply, his chest expanding with it. "Well, my emotions were all the place as well. I remember trying to fix something on the TARDIS and not having a replacement part. I couldn't stop crying when I realised I wouldn't be able to find the part I needed."

Her fingers squeezed his. "We're a little bit of a mess, aren't we?"

"At least the company isn't awful," he replied and felt pleased when she laughed, shaking some of the brokenness from her voice. "More tea?"

She nodded and the server came over to pour them a fresh cup of tea. She curled her free hand around it and brought it to her mouth. It wasn't a blend she was familiar with but it did the job well enough: strong enough to peel paint and shake the horror from her body at least. Yatta En-Lei was good at her job: gentle questions that seemed innocuous on the surface but somehow managed to delve straight to the heart of the problem – her helplessness in the face of hateful intransigence; her anger at being put in that situation to begin with; and the pain of torture that haunted her sleep.

Exhausted though she was, she felt lighter and her head clearer.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The Doctor asked her, sipping his own tea.

"God no," Zoe shook her head. "I'm sick of hearin' about my problems. You must be climbin' the walls at this moment."

"I'm really not," he assured her, thumb sweeping over the back of her hand.

"I want to continue our conversation from last night, if that's okay?" She asked, and his hearts froze at the reminder of the continued existence of the Daleks. "I didn't get a chance to ask my questions."

The tension released from him.

"Of course," he said, certain he would tell her anything. "Go ahead."

"So you can change your face," Zoe said, and he honestly wasn't expecting that. "How does that work?"

"You saw a different face?" He asked her. She nodded over her tea. "What did I look like?"

Her eyes glinted with mischief, and he knew what was coming.

"Spoilers."

"You're a pain in the ass," he said conversationally. She laughed, her shoulders shaking so hard she had to set her cup of tea down; he was so relieved to hear her laughter that he just watched her and enjoyed the sight.

"You were very handsome," she said, squeezing his hand. "Lots of hair. It was kind of floppy."

"Was I ginger?" He asked hopefully, running his hand over his short stubble. He occasionally missed having longer hair; his current body was the shortest he'd ever had.

"Sorry." She shook her head. "Brown."

"Damn," he sighed. "I haven't been ginger yet. I keep hoping that the next time I'll strike lucky."

"You're so weird," Zoe said fondly, tapping his calf with her foot under the table. "C'mon then. Tell me how you can look completely different, even your eyes were different."

"It's a trick Time Lords have," he explained. "It's sort of a way of avoiding death and prolonging our lives. It's called regeneration: when we're dying we can channel the energy of our dying cells into regenerating themselves, but we can't do it exactly so our cells change and we emerge looking like a new person."

"That's insane," she told him. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes."

"He said this was number ten," Zoe said, gesturing at his face across the table. "Or nine. He was a bit confused on that point."

"Technically, this is my tenth face," the Doctor said, finding he didn't mind sharing his secrets with her as she already knew of his worst moment and still accepted him with friendship and more kindness than he deserved. He fiddled with her fingers. She let him whilst patiently waiting for him to tell her or to not tell her: she would accept either outcome. "You know what I did to end the war."

"The Moment," she said softly, and he swallowed hard at hearing those words spoken in bright daylight. "I remember."

"I didn't want to fight, I spent so long running from the War." He shook his head. "I was a coward. I've always been a coward."

She looked as though she wanted to argue that but stayed quiet, and he was grateful; it was easier to speak without any interruptions.

"I've never told you about the naming customs amongst Time Lords, have I?" The Doctor asked suddenly, and she blinked at the abrupt change in topic but shook her head. "We're given a name at birth by our parents but it's rarely used, only by those closest to you. My parents and my wife were the only ones to know my name. There's an intimacy that comes with it, a magic if you will."

She smiled at that.

"You're tellin' me the Doctor isn't your name?" She teased him gently. "Colour me shocked."

"Oi." He laughed, and she smiled at him. "Our names are important because they're the names that we choose for ourselves. My name – the name I was born with – it's not important, not really. The name that we choose, it's like...it's like a promise you make. To yourself. To your community. To your family. It's meant to reflect the very essence of the person that you want to be."

"An' you the chose the name Doctor." Zoe said, completely fascinated. "Why that name?"

"Doctors are helpers. I wanted to help," he said, and a soft, gentle part inside Zoe's chest ached at his confession. "The promise I made to myself all those years ago...it's not compatible with war."

"What was the promise?"

His mouth was dry and his head was light but it was Zoe and trusting her with his promise was as easy as breathing.

"Never cruel or cowardly. Never give up. Never give in," he recited, and Zoe brushed a tear from her cheek. "Except...it didn't really mean anything. Not at the time. I chose the name and made the promise because that's what was expected of me. It didn't mean anything. Not for centuries, not until long after Levokania was dead. You see...all those years ago when I began running it was just a name. I just called myself the Doctor. It meant nothing...but then I went to Skaro and I met the Daleks...and then I understood who I was. I became the Doctor on Skaro, holding two wires in my hand that if I touched them together would wipe the Daleks out of existence."

"You couldn't do it," Zoe whispered, sitting as far forward in her seat as she could; the edge of the table cut into her stomach but she didn't care.

"The Doctor was not like the Daleks," he said, meeting her eyes and holding them. "I didn't kill, not if I could avoid it. I saved, and I helped, and I healed. And then – then the War came. We were all called home but I ran. I kept running until I couldn't any more. I was on a ship that crashed. The pilot had sent out a distress call. She was the only one left on board having sent the rest of the crew to safety. Her name was Cass. She was brave and brilliant, and when she learned I was a Time Lord...the look of disgust and hatred in her eyes...the battle was already lost. I'd already become like a Dalek in her eyes. She chose death rather than accept my help."

The memory of it still caused pain to bury deep between his hearts but he found comfort in the steady, unwavering gaze of Zoe.

"I died when I crashed on that planet," he continued. "But it was planet I'd been to before. Karn, home of the Sisterhood of Karn – powerful women, boring conversationalists. They brought me back from death but my body was still dying and regeneration was just around the corner. They gave me a choice. You see, very few Time Lords can control their regeneration. Romana was the only one I knew personally who was capable of it but the Sisterhood of Karn had a potion of sorts for me to drink. It would allow me to become the man I needed to be to help win the War. I could force myself to regenerate into a warrior...but it meant leaving behind the promise I made."

He fell silent. Zoe just watched him, face pale.

"I drank the potion," the Doctor said. "I drank it and in that moment I stopped being the Doctor."

"I - I don't understand," she whispered. "You were still you."

"Of course," he said, mouth dry. "But I wasn't the Doctor. The man that tried to save, forgive, protect...I stopped being him. I became a man without mercy. The perfect soldier." He finally looked away from out and out over the glittering blue ocean. "That's why I say this is technically my tenth face. Nine as the Doctor, one as – as that man."

Zoe stayed pressed up against the table, her hand still within the Doctor's. No matter how bad her life seemed with the experience of Tolandra under her belt, the Doctor would always have her beat. She remained silent as she thought over everything he had told her and everything he had told her before, weeks ago in the TARDIS kitchen after their experience in Van Statten's bunker. He wasn't afraid she would turn from him though as he waited in her silence. Her hand remained solidly within his as she thought hard; he wasn't put off by her silence in the aftermath of his fresh, raw confession and explanation. He appreciated it as it allowed him to wrestle his own emotions back under control.

It was some time before she spoke again.

Enough time had passed for the server to refresh their tea and for hers to go cold.

"I think you're wrong," Zoe said, finally breaking the silence; he turned his head for his eyes to meet hers.

"Excuse me?"

"I think you're wrong," she repeated. "When you say that you stopped bein' the Doctor on Karn."

"Zoe, I turned my back on everything I believe in," the Doctor said. "On everything that I prided myself being."

"You once told me that if the War didn't end, all of time would have been ripped apart," Zoe said. "All the planets in the sky would have been turned to dust an' people would have died screaming. D'you still say that?"

"Yes."

"Then, _Doctor,_ " she emphasised his name and gripped both of his hands with hers; tears slid down her cheeks but she let them fall instead of brushing them away. "I think that you were the Doctor on that day more than you'd ever been in your life...y _ou_ were the Doctor on the day it was impossible to get it right."

 _Oh_.

Zoe shifted just in time.

The Doctor's body fell forwards. She caught him in her arms, wrapping them around him holding him close. He pressed his face into her neck and shook with quiet, heaving sobs. Their server earned the large tip that Zoe later left him by quickly leaping into action and enacting a privacy shield around their table so that his grief remained unobserved. She gathered him close. His hands grasped at her and pulled her into his lap, trying to press himself deep into the safety of her embrace. She held him to her as he cried into her neck.

They were both definitely a hot mess but, like he said, at least they had company.

* * *

Both she and the Doctor felt emotionally exhausted, and they were leaning on each other when they arrived back at the TARDIS to find Jack and Rose waiting for them in the console room, sitting side by side on the jump seat. Rose's face was pinker than it had been when she had left and seemed to shine under the lights of the console room. They entered and discreetly untangled themselves from each other: the Doctor's arm had been around her shoulders and she had thrown hers around his waist, supporting each other as they walked.

"Rosie, your face is shiny," Zoe said by way of greeting, moving up the ramp.

"I got sunburned," she said cheerfully. "Jack found this great gel in the sickbay. You should've seen me thirty minutes ago."

"The Genera extract?" The Doctor asked their newest addition, and Jack just nodded. "Good. You're not entirely useless."

"Don't be rude," Zoe chastised, smiling at the Time Agent. "Thanks, Jack. Did you two have a nice day?"

"We did," Jack said, and he looked relaxed and comfortable, which was no surprise as Rose was excellent at making people feel like they belonged. "Took a boat ride, had some cocktails at the port, and tried some excellent seafood. It's been a while since I've been able to explore like this. Normally it's work-work-work."

"Con-con-con," the Doctor corrected and earned himself a punch in the thigh from Zoe followed by a sharp warning look. He tilted his head apologetically at her. "You both stayed out of trouble, I hope."

Rose threw him a distinctly unimpressed look before turning to her sister.

"How was your session?" She asked kindly.

"I think my therapist is a witch," Zoe said pleasantly. "I went in, she said hello, and next thing you know I'm spillin' my emotions everywhere."

"Is that a good thing?" Rose asked, concerned.

"Well...I feel a bit better, so maybe." She replied, and Rose pulled her into a hug, grabbing her with both arms and legs, wrapping them around her. Zoe laughed and caught hold of Jack's knee to stop her toppling over. "Rosie!"

"Good," she said into her hair. "I've been worried about you."

"You always worry about me," Zoe rolled her eyes whilst enjoying the monkey-like hug. Her sister buried her face into her short hair and pretended to eat her, making them both laugh. The Doctor watched them fondly. She met his eyes and smiled at him, a fresh tenderness existing between them. "So I might have an idea of what to do next if no one minds."

"Tell us," the Doctor said, intrigued, as it was the first time she'd suggested a destination since Tolandra.

She turned her head to look at Jack.

"What do you know about 20th century music?"

"I know the big bands, Glenn Miller and the like," Jack answered. "But nothing past 1941."

"Then you're in for a treat," she promised him with a wide smile. "Doctor, can we go see the Beatles live?"

"Ooo, can we?" Rose asked excitedly. "I love the Beatles. Mum was obsessed with them when she was a girl."

"Aren't beetles a type of insect?" Jack asked curiously. Rose laughed, unwrapping herself from Zoe to jump to her feet and grab Jack's hand.

"Come on, captain, we need to find an outfit!" She exclaimed. "Make it the sixties, Doctor! There's a dress in the wardrobe I've been dyin' to wear. Come on, Zo!"

"I'll catch up," Zoe laughed, and Rose pulled a happily confused Jack out of the console room, giving him a brief, quick history of the Beatles as she went. She met the Doctor's eyes. He raised an eyebrow; she shrugged in response. "Figured it was time to start tickin' things off my list again. Hope you don't mind."

"You know I don't," he said with a small smile. "It's just nice to hear you making suggestions again."

"Like I said, I'm pretty sure Yatta is a witch."

"There's no such thing as magic," the Doctor told her with a soft, huffing laugh, and he started the dematerialisation procedure.

"Says the man with a blue police box that travels through time an' space."

"That's science, Zoe," he said, exasperated; she laughed at him. He was wonderfully easy to tease at times. "Get on with you. Go do whatever it is you and Rose do when you get ready for things."

"Sure you don't want to change," she asked, tugging on his leather jacket. "Blend in a little more?"

"I blend!"

"You're the least blendy person I know."

"That's not even a word!" He protested. "At least not in English."

"Oh, hush up," Zoe said, rising up onto her toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek, surprising him but he watched her go with a smile on his face.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Zoe stepped out of the TARDIS and into Berlin, Germany one month later.

It was a chilly day with a sharp, stiff breeze and so she yelled over her shoulder for Rose to bring her coat out with her. They hadn't been to Earth since the Beatles concert at the Carnegie Hall in New York in 1964, and it was good to have the planet of her birth beneath her feet again. She breathed in deeply and spread her arms wide – it was really nice to be home. Jack emerged from the TARDIS carrying her coat, and she took it from him with a smile. He had fit into their dynamic easier than anyone had expected. Even the Doctor had long since warmed up to him but Zoe suspected that was because Jack had saved Rose's life on Jal Cax Minor when her foot slipped on a wet rock and was sucked down a waterfall. He had jumped in after her without a moment's hesitation; the Doctor and Zoe found them at the bottom of the waterfall with Jack pumping air into Rose's lungs.

Things were significantly warmer between the two men after that. So much so that Zoe and Rose often found them waist deep in wires and tools, fixing the TARDIS as they laughed and argued with each other. The atmosphere in the TARDIS felt different but good different. Four seemed to be the magic number with them. The Doctor was no longer outnumbered by the two sisters, and no one felt guilty for leaving anyone out: Zoe and Rose could have their sister nights knowing full well that Jack and the Doctor were off somewhere in the TARDIS; and Rose and Jack had company when the Doctor accompanied Zoe to her therapy appointments twice a week.

"Why are we here exactly?" Rose asked from behind her as the Doctor closing the door to the TARDIS: all of them but him were wearing warm clothes. He remained in his usual outfit, although he had conceded to the temperature with a navy blue scarf around his throat. "You didn't say."

"The TARDIS picked up some strange readings," the Doctor explained, looking around at their grim surroundings.

Everything seemed normal but that meant nothing with them.

"When are we?" Zoe asked, hands in her pockets.

Jack consulted his wrist strap that seemed to perform more or less the same function as a miniaturised TARDIS computer, just nowhere near as powerful.

"7th November 1989."

"Two days before the fall of the Berlin Wall," Zoe said. "Not a coincidence, I'm guessin'."

"Never ignore a coincidence," the Doctor told her. "Unless you're busy. Fortunately, we're not busy."

"Wait, which side of the wall are we on?" She asked. "East or West?"

"East," he answered. "Everyone try not to look too affluent."

"You guys really don't try to blend it at all, do you?" Jack laughed good-naturedly.

He had come to accept the Doctor's somewhat laissez-faire approach to time travel, which did not include seven a.m. briefings and correct historical clothing. Zoe thought Jack was going to have a heart attack when she went to leave the TARDIS dressed in a short denim skirt on Kirahl because of their attitudes towards female modesty. He had been heartbreakingly polite as he suggested that perhaps she might want to reconsider her attire; in hindsight, it would have been a good idea to do as he suggested but running was good for the soul, particularly when they were being chased by religious clerics.

"I've been told I'm not blendy," the Doctor said. Zoe snorted and reached around Jack to punch him lightly on the arm. "Ow."

"What are we looking for then, boss?" Jack asked, quickly having learned that it annoyed the Doctor when they called him boss, and therefore he delighted in using it just enough to wind him up but not so much he annoyed him.

The Doctor side-eyed him. "Anything out of the ordinary."

"Alien?" Zoe asked, linking arms with Rose.

"Anything," he repeated and set off down the path from the walled in park the TARDIS had landed in.

The grass was overgrown and brownish, yellow creeping in towards the dry tips; weeds grew up along the cracked concrete walls and sprouted up between the paving slabs they walked on.

She had studied Germany in the 20th century for her history A-level but the focus had really been on West Germany. The few things she knew about East Germany were in relation to what she had learnt in that context. It was greyer than she had expected: part of that was due to the weather where a fine drizzle of rain settled against them but part of that was to do with their surroundings. Large concrete buildings rose up out of the ground, ugly and functional as most communist architecture was; the few people they passed looked tired beyond their years, shoulders hunched over as they moved with their heads down. It was different in West Germany though as West Germany had American money funnelled into it to keep communism and the Russians at bay.

Communism was great in theory. On paper, it made perfect sense: take everything and put it into a large pot to be divided equally so that no one could have more or less than anyone else. It was a complete, equitable split of wealth and property. Healthcare, education, transportation, and everything else would be paid for by the government as long as everyone did their bit and contributed to the whole. It was a good theory but the reality of it fell far short of the mark. Once everything had been divided and everyone got their share, corruption set in to help people get more in order to find an advantage over their neighbours. It was human nature to want to strive and to do well financially and communism went against that.

Without knowing exactly what they were looking for their expedition felt like an exercise in wasting time. The Doctor was certain that the TARDIS brought them there because something nefarious was afoot and, admittedly, the TARDIS did have a good track record for delivering them where they needed to be in order to help. She was just unhelpfully vague on details. Even so, Zoe was enjoying herself. She was back on Earth and in her recent history.

On the Powell Estate in London, Jackie was elbow-deep in dirty nappies with a ten-month-old Zoe and a three-year-old Rose.

After hours of wandering East Berlin without finding anything out of the ordinary, they stopped at a restaurant with sticky floors and grimy walls. Zoe was glad to sit down, pressed as she was between the wall and Jack. A dour-looking woman in her sixties came over and, without asking them what they wanted, slapped four cold beers on the table along with a platter of sausages and potatoes. Presumably that was the only thing on the menu, and Zoe was hungry enough not to care.

"Can't you just run a scan for alien tech?" Rose asked, biting into a sausage.

"Wouldn't help," the Doctor answered, looking right at home in the grimy bar with a beer in his hand. "This is November 1989. Zoe's right when she says the Berlin Wall falls in two days. Tour groups of time travellers will be coming from all over to watch it."

"That's a thing?" Zoe asked around a mouthful of potatoes. "Time travel tourism?"

"When time travel was first invented on Earth, there weren't a lot of regulations," Jack answered, examining a sausage curiously. He was still a little dubious about 20th century Earth food, although he did enjoy chips. Apparently eating real animals was less of a thing in his time. "It took a couple of hundred years to get the laws in place and start restricting it."

"Why did it take so long?" Rose asked.

Jack grinned. "People kept going back and changing time to erase the laws."

Zoe laughed. "Of course they did."

"Anyway, what do you think you're doing?" The Doctor asked. "You're technically travelling through time as a tourist."

"Does that make you my tour guide?" She replied blithely. "Because I think I'm goin' to want to speak to management."

"Office hours are 10-12 on Thursday once a decade," he said, and she snorted, eyes sparkling with amusement. She tapped his ankle under the table with her foot whilst he grinned at her.

"If we can't scan for alien tech then," Zoe continued, taking a sip of her beer. It tasted awful but her mouth was greasy from the food. "Maybe we can just scan for unusual energy output?"

Jack chewed on a sausage as the Doctor looked at her curiously. "How do you mean?"

"Well, I'm assumin' that you'll be able to tell if there's somethin' out of place with the energy," she said. "Like the time travellers will have a particular type but other visitors will be more ominous an' you'll go - _ooo, ominous_ when you see it."

"She's got a point," Jack said. "The tour groups come from the 25th century, and they use a very specific carrier frequency that I'll be able to identify. Anything that doesn't match that should give us a location or where to look."

Rose looked annoyed. "D'you mean to tell me that we've spent all mornin' walkin' around East Berlin when we didn't have to?"

"Exercise is good for humans," the Doctor said cheerfully. "At least that's what I've been told."

Rose pointed a sausage at him. "I hate you."

* * *

Scanning for energy output took an unusually long time. The TARDIS needed to have her scanners thoroughly cleaned and recalibrated but the Doctor kept forgetting to do it. Since it would take longer than a few minutes, his companions had drifted off into the TARDIS to do their own thing. He set off in search of Zoe as ,Jack and Rose were off exploring the TARDIS: the two of them often disappeared for hours at a time to explore and he was surprised that Zoe didn't accompany them. He expressed that surprise to her once because she loved exploring and loved the TARDIS even more, which he thought meant it would be the perfect activity for her. She had looked up at him over the top of her book and given him a strange smile.

"I'm happy where I am."

He didn't know what she meant by that but his stomach had felt like it was full of butterflies.

With Jack and Rose off in the depths of his TARDIS, hopefully not poking around anything that could either explode or give them an unwelcome insight into his life – he thought briefly on the baby's crib he knew was in one of the rooms –, he went to bother Zoe. He called it bothering, she called it keeping her company. She didn't mind him just sitting and watching her whilst she read or cooked or applied her moisturiser. He found it comforting not to be alone with his thoughts but also not to have to speak: she accepted that about him.

He found her reading in the swimming pool. Everything below her waist was submerged in the cool, clear water and everything above her waist was leaning against the edge of the pool with a book held in one hand, her feet occasionally kicking out lazily behind her in a facsimile of swimming. Her therapist had suggested swimming daily to help her physical recovery; or at least some form of gentle exercise that didn't involve running for her life. Yatta had been insultingly specific about that. Zoe was almost back to 100% pre-Tolandra strength but she still got exhausted at the strangest times. They were once arguing over what to use the last of the bananas for - she was in favour of a cake, he wanted a smoothie - when she suddenly fell asleep on him.

He made a smoothie.

She hadn't been happy.

"I might be wrong but I think you need to swim to get the physical benefits," the Doctor said, walking to sit on the edge the pool chair nearest her.

She raised her eyes from her book along with her eyebrows. "You mean I've been doing it wrong all this time? Drat. Don't tell Yatta."

"What are you reading anyway?" He asked, trying to peer at the cover of her book. She went through them quickly enough for a human that he found it a little difficult to keep up. She didn't have a chance to answer him because his eyes caught sight of the title and laughed. "Douglas Adams?"

"I'm going to be surprised as hell if you tell me you've never met him," Zoe warned him, marking her place with a scrap of paper and tossing the book to him. He caught it easily. "His writin' has you stamped all over it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asked curiously whilst looking down at the book; it was centuries since he had last read it. Surprisingly, it wasn't his copy; it must have been one of the collection she had brought with her.

"The general absurdity of it," she said, and his mouth dropped open in offence. She laughed at his expression, and his chest warmed at the sound of her laughter. "Go on then, tell me: you know him, right? You've at least met him once."

"I might have done," he said, and she lifted her arms in triumph only to sink beneath the water, her forehead visible. She kicked back to the surface, grinning. "But at a book signing. Ace was a fan. She liked to listen to the radio stories, and she dragged me along. Sorry to disappoint you, but he was totally human."

She looked a bit put out by that before swimming back towards the side. She folded her arms on the ledge and rested her chin on them. Her warm brown eyes looked up at him.

"Ace?" She queried lightly. "I don't think you've mentioned her before."

"Haven't I?" The Doctor replied, a little surprised. He had told her about Sarah-Jane, Ian and Barbara, Jamie, and Peri; he was surprised he hadn't told her about Ace.

"When did she travel with you?" Zoe asked curiously. "What face?"

After the Beatles concert a month before, he had dug out old pictures of himself to show them to her at her request. She was fascinated by it all and kept trying to sneak looks to see if she could see any similarities. Her open curiosity was worth the brief flush of embarrassment when she examined his faces, pleasantly mocking his fashion choices and, he was able to admit that the celery was a bit much in hindsight. Learning about his life before he met her and Rose helped her piece together a timeline that she would place the things he told her about off-handedly. She assigned the events in his life to the faces he wore so that she could remember it with greater ease. Jamie was with his second face, whilst Peri was with his fifth and sixth face; knowing that let her know that there was about 500 years between the two and therefore let her know when other things happened in his life.

"She travelled with me when I was on number seven," the Doctor replied, and her eyes flicked to the left, accessing her memory before she smiled.

"Your cute professor phase," she remembered, and he scowled at her. He did not at all like the way she nicknamed each face, except he actually found it quite charming. "She liked Adams then?"

"She liked to read, like you," he said, and it was nice to be able to remember his past without it hurting. Zoe had the ability to help him remember the good things instead of the bad. "Not as assiduously, of course, but she was very bright. Brighter than she thought she was. She did have a troubling propensity for pyrotechnics though."

"Huh?"

"She liked to blow stuff up."

"My kind of girl," Zoe grinned appreciatively. "What happened to her?"

"Oh, she left in the end," the Doctor said with a slight sigh. "She stayed longer than most but there were other things she wanted to do. She went off to university and studied something. I can't remember what. I know she's working in Australia at the moment, helping to protect Aboriginal Rights."

"She sounds lovely," Zoe looked up at him, smiling softly. "Not that I'm surprised. All of your friends sound great."

He knew that she wanted to meet them, particularly Sarah-Jane whom he always spoke of with such fondness, but she would never push him into doing it. It was one of the many things he appreciated about her. She always seemed to know when it was appropriate to push and when she needed to ease back. He didn't know how she knew, she just did. If he wasn't completely certain that she was thoroughly human, he would suspect there was some telepathy rattling around in her brilliant mind. He watched as she braced her hands against the side of the pool and lifted her body out of it. He glanced away, ears a little hot though he wasn't sure why, and he handed over the towel he was sat on.

She wrapped it around her waist after drying the upper half of her body. "Find anythin'?"

"Not yet," he admitted. "I really should have cleaned up the sensors when I had the chance."

"Live and learn, Doctor." She patted his shoulder. "I was thinkin' about getting started on dinner. Do -?"

"It's not your night to cook." He wasn't in the habit of interrupting her, and her mouth froze around her words, surprised. "It's Rose's."

They had a system of alternating cooking on the nights they didn't eat out wherever or whenever they were visiting. It worked well and all of them were delighted to discover that Jack was an excellent cook, even if he favoured vegetarian and vegan recipes as he couldn't quite get fully onboard with cooking actual meat from real animals. Apparently, they used a very good meat substitute in the 51st century, and Jack was surprisingly squeamish when it came to handling raw meat. He could eat what they cooked just fine but ask him to pick up a pork chop and he turned green.

"We're on our own for dinner tonight," she replied, scratching behind her ear and not quite meeting his gaze. "Jack an' Rose have other plans."

Before her saying that, he had been about 42% sure that Jack and Rose were having sex with each other. He had considered about asking them but then quickly decided against it. Humans were strange about their sexual relations with each other, more so when they engaged in it with other species. He remembered once asking Barbara whether she and Ian were having sex, and it was the only time he had seen her look truly shocked. It was also the only time she had ever slapped him. In nearly a millennia of travelling through space and time, no one explained to him why humans were touchy about the subject as it seemed to vary from person to person. Some were open and honest, some were too informative, others acted as though it was a vulgar thing to discuss.

Humans were unhelpfully contrary. Except Zoe wasn't; she was helpfully straightforward. Although the thought of talking to Zoe about sex made him feel like he was a fumbling teenager again. Maybe he was as bad as humans and that just wouldn't stand.

"Are those two having sex?" The Doctor asked, horrified at the words as soon as they left his mouth, and he wished he could pull them back in and swallow them down.

Zoe's eyebrows flew up on her forehead.

"What on earth makes you think that?" She asked, her cheeks bright red.

"They keep disappearing together...you don't go with them..." he floundered, his percentage of certainty plummeting by the second. "Humans have a tendency to have sex with any being that they find semi-attractive. It was a large reason the Corelian disease spread so rapidly in the 28th century. Proper epidemic and all."

He was babbling.

She was bright red.

"They're not having sex," Zoe said, looking at a point over his head.

He stood awkwardly in front of her, feeling like his limbs were too big for him and he wasn't quite sure what to do with them. He was right. Talking to her about sex made him feel like a teenager all over again.

"Right, well, great," the Doctor said awkwardly. "Not that it would be a problem if they did. Or my business. That last one's important...at least that's what Barbara told me. She gave me a right old slap when I...never mind."

She stared at him with a mixture of horror and helpless embarrassment.

"What do they do anyway?" He asked, reaching desperately for something that would bring the conversation back to familiar ground.

"They explore the TARDIS," she said slowly; she spoke as though her head was underwater and couldn't clear the blockage in her ears. "She's teachin' him 21st century stuff. He never really studied it at his Time Agent school. He said he specialised in the 30th century onwards. He knows we go back home a lot an; he wants to fit in."

"Oh," the Doctor said; that was kind of sad, but also sweet. He hadn't considered that Jack might feel out of place as the man seemed capable of making himself at home anywhere. A thought struck him. "Is this him flirting with her?"

She clasped a hand over her eyes. "Jesus Christ, you're a moron."

"What?"

"Is this a thing with geniuses?" She asked him, peering at him through her fingers. "An inability to see what's so blindingly obvious to the rest of us mere mortals?"

"You're not making any sense," he told her firmly. "Did you swallow some of the pool again? Because you know what happens if you do."

"I'm not going to have hallucinations again," she said. "An' you're still an idiot."

"I'm feeling really attacked right now."

She shook her head, looking both concerned and amused. It did interesting things to her face.

She wasn't going to be the one to tell him that Jack and Rose disappeared to explore the TARDIS and talk about how hopelessly in love with the Doctor they were. For a man with a complete lack of tact and a superiority complex bigger than the Medusa Cascade, he had a knack for getting sensible people to fall in love with him. Zoe wasn't sure what that made her considering what she knew about the future she was moving towards.

"I'm goin' to put some clothes on," she said, effectively ending their conversation about her sister's sex life. "Think about what you want for dinner."

Zoe walked away from him shaking her head, and he stared after her. He was more confused than he had been when he entered, and the heat of embarrassment still clung to him. He didn't understand anything of what had just transpired as normally Zoe made sense. He peered into the swimming pool whilst considering that she had in fact swallowed some of the water again. It would explain her strange behaviour. He was left standing at the side of the pool still holding her book.

"Humans are very strange," the Doctor said out loud, and the TARDIS laughed around him; it seemed that everyone knew what was going on except for him.

It felt like the story of his life at that moment.

His sonic screwdriver beeped, and he pulled it from his pocket examining the readings. He frowned and shook the screwdriver, trying to shake new readings out of it but to little avail. The readings remained the same, and they were not good: not Dalek bad but also not chips from his favourite chippie good. He hurried out into the corridor, and the TARDIS placed Zoe's room directly across from the pool. He hammered on the door and she opened it, bewildered.

"What?" Zoe demanded, her shoulders bare. "I just left you."

"Maybe just put your clothes on," the Doctor said, keeping his eyes off her lovely shoulders with their dusky skin. "I've found our unusual energy surge. Dinner's going to have to wait. I'll get Jack and Rose."

* * *

Rose launched herself off the side of one wall with a laugh, arms outstretched. Jack caught her easily; she let out a shriek of delight. They spun in the centre of the room, the lack of gravity making them hover in the air like they were flying. Her hair flew out around her, and Jack's face was filled with bright happiness, his smile pulled wide across his face. The room there were in was called the Flying Room, or at least that was what they had unimaginatively called it. The Doctor probably had a boring scientific name for it but they were happy with their name for it.

"This is so much fun!" Rose laughed, her cheeks hurting from how much she was laughing.

She couldn't believe that she had nearly missed out on life in the TARDIS. If the Doctor hadn't come back for her, would she have even known what she was missing? Or would it have just been a strange, quiet regret of _what if_? She was so glad he came back for her and told her that the TARDIS travelled in time.

Jack's phone suddenly started ringing in his pocket. The Doctor had tossed him one shortly after he joined their Team TARDIS - Zoe wanted T-shirts with that emblazoned on them - and told him not to lose it. He always kept it on his person unlike Rose who often left hers in her bedroom. Carefully, he let go of Rose's hands and flipped her. She somersaulted through the air, shaking with laughter as she did so.

"Hello," Jack answered through a laugh.

" _Console room, now,_ " the Doctor ordered. " _I've found the energy source. Quick march, captain_."

The Doctor hung up abruptly but Jack was growing accustomed to his brusqueness. He even found it charming.

"Rose -" Jack called out to her, catching hold of her wrist. She hung upside down in front of him, beaming: she was beautiful. "The Doctor's found the energy source. He wants us in the console room."

She looked disappointed at having to leave but they swam over to the side. The pull of gravity beneath their feet was disorienting. They hurried down through the corridors. The Doctor didn't like to be kept waiting, which was ironic considering his own relationship with Time.

"Zygons!" The Doctor said over his shoulder when they entered, already pulling Zoe out of the door and into the dark night of Berlin. They hurried to keep up, pausing to grab their coats on the way out, the doors to the TARDIS shutting behind them.

"What are Zygons?" Rose asked, hurriedly pulling her coat on and chasing after the Doctor, her breath formed a white mist in front of her.

"Amphibious metamorphic humanoids," the Doctor said, finally slowing his pace and using his screwdriver to guide them.

"Come again?" She replied. "This time in English, please."

"Fish shape shifters," Zoe helpfully translated. The Doctor looked like he was going to protest the description but he gave in with a sigh.

"Sounds...gross," Rose decided. "You've come across them before?"

"So many times." He sounded annoyed. "It might be nice, just once, to meet some new people who are trying to cause trouble. Instead, I get the repeats."

"Do we know what they're up to?" Jack asked.

"I suspect no good," Zoe chimed in, laughing when the Doctor tugged on her hand, making her bump into him. "But I'll be happy to be proved wrong."

"I want to find out why they're here first," the Doctor said, crossing an empty street and leading them down a damp alleyway that was littered with soggy cardboard. They disturbed a den of feral cats that hissed furiously at them as they went passed. "There's not many of them left, not any more. They might just be looking for a new home."

"What happened to their old one?" Rose asked.

"It burned," the Doctor said, and a cold wave rolled slowly down Zoe's body from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She turned her head and looked at him. His jaw was set with the familiar lines of guilt. She knew then that the Zygons were victims of the Time War. "Turn left!"

They all turned left and stopped in front of an abandoned building.

Once upon a time it had been a hospital. It was twelve stories high and covered in the filth of pollution and water damage. Dirt stained windows were cracked and broken in their peeling panes; thick weeds knotted the base of the building, and moss climbed high up the side. Some enterprising and bored youths had sprayed graffiti on the dull grey brick. A faded swastika was tucked away in one corner. Someone had tried to scrub it off as it was lighter and more faded than the rest of the graffiti. The ground was cracked in front of them and an old ambulance was tipped on its side in the same state of disrepair as the building. Its back door creaked as the wind slowly buffeted it back and forth.

In the dark of the German night, they were all rendered speechless by the building. The Doctor reached into one of his bottomless pockets and removed a torch. He activated it and the beam cut across the ground.

"Are you out of your fuckin' mind?" Zoe demanded. He looked startled by her choice of language. "You want to go in there?"

"It's where the energy readings are coming from," he replied as though that made it perfectly reasonable for them to enter the building that would be the site of their most likely horrible murders.

"It looks like it's haunted!"

"Don't be ridiculous," he said. "There are no such things as ghosts."

"Er - Dickens?" Rose interrupted.

"They weren't ghosts, they were the Gelth," the Doctor said. "You know that."

"Seemed like ghosts to me," she replied, tucking her wind-pinked fingers into the warm crevice of her armpits. She wriggled them to get the chill out.

"We go in there, one of us is goin' to be kidnapped and/or killed," Zoe told him, drawing his attention back onto her. "An' my money's on that being me _again_!"

Guilt flashed across his face, and she regretted her words instantly.

She hadn't meant it to sound accusatory but her voice had taken on a life of its own. He took her hand within his and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. His voice was impossibly gentle when he spoke, making her feel worse.

"You can go back to the TARDIS."

"Oh, shut up," she scowled.

She wrenched her hand from his grip, snatched the torch from his other hand, and stomped away from him. The building loomed up high, dark, and ominous in front of her. She didn't want to walk into it but as her pride seemed set on making sure she was going to be viciously slaughtered – and possibly eaten – by a Zygon she kept walking.

She would be damned if she turned back around.

* * *

"Now, I know what you're thinking, and while you might be right in the fact that you did actually tell me something like this would happen, I would like to point out that now is probably not the best time for assigning blame."

Zoe glared at him, unable to speak as her mouth was covered, which was probably a good thing considering how furious her eyes and nose looked. Her words were muffled but he could hear the anger in them.

"I know," the Doctor said, grimacing apologetically as he dug his hands into the thick, slimy web of a Zygon cocoon to free her from it. "You do seem to have the worst luck when it comes to these types of things. Although, if it makes you feel better, Jack's concussed."

Her entire body wriggled in the cocoon and more angry, muffled noises spilled out from her.

"Sorry, Zo, I can't hear you," he said, tapping his ear with a sticky finger and her nostrils flared.

He knew she would make him pay for that remark at some point but he was filled with elation at the successful resolution to what he had thought would be yet another conflict with the Zygons. It had taken the four of them an hour of moving silently through the building, carefully peeking into rooms and cautiously moving up through stairwells littered with debris and held in place with rusted iron bars. The source of the energy was masked and his screwdriver wasn't powerful enough to pinpoint the location - a design flaw he intended to fix - but they did eventually find it. Or rather Jack did when he had pulled back with a yelp. He had accidentally shoved his head between two sleeping, adult Zygons who didn't take kindly to their wake up call.

They took even less kindly to the four of them disturbing what was essentially a nursery.

Zygons incubated their young so that they could emerge from their cocoons relatively mature and independent. In many ways the process was similar to looming on Gallifrey except they bypassed the maturation process as it was bad for cognitive development. In the abandoned hospital in East Berlin, baby Zygons grew out of the walls like spores. A hodgepodge of technology went into keeping the environment as perfect for the growing infants as possible but even the slightest deviation could be devastating. As such, mummy and daddy Zygon were furious about their literally poking their noses in and gave chase with a wild roar that the Doctor hadn't heard in centuries.

Running in the dark with only the unsteady glare of a torch was not conducive to a successful escape attempt - Jack fell down a flight of stairs head first, and Rose cut a deep gash along her hair when a shard of glass caught on her when she went to catch Jack.

In the midst of all of the confusion, Zoe was captured and strung up like a baby Zygon.

"Ow!"

As soon as he had freed her hands, she smacked him around the head.

"I told you so!" Zoe said furiously, ripping the cocoon from across her mouth and spitting the slime onto the ground. She got his boots, and he decided not to wonder whether it had been done on purpose.

"Stop hitting me!" The Doctor exclaimed, trying to duck her wild, flapping hands but she had unerring aim. "I'm sorry!"

A finger pointed between his eyes. "You'd better be."

"Would you like to get down now?" He asked warily, her arms folded across her chest, making her look like a sulking bat.

"No, Doctor, I think I'd like to stay here," she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. "The view is just so delightful. I'm really enjoyin' the rush of blood to my head."

"Er -" he glanced at her uncertainly, and her arms reached for him again. He leapt back, and her fingers only grazed him.

"Get me down, you idiot!"

"Right-o," he replied, leaping into action. He aimed his screwdriver at the base of the cocoon, and it released like a balloon popping. Zoe yelped and her body twisted but he caught her easily in his arms. She weighed next to nothing, at least in regards to his strength, and she was wet, slimy, and angry. He ignored that and smiled down at her. "Hello."

"I hate you."

"No you don't," he said cheerfully, setting her on her feet and crouching helping her to peel the rest of the cocoon off.

"Where are Rose and Jack?" She asked, using the top of his head to balance herself as she lifted one foot and then the other so that he could dig her feet out.

"Back at the TARDIS," he said. "Like I said, Jack's a little concussed. He used his head to break his fall down some stairs."

"Oh my god," she said, eyes wide with worry. "Is he okay?"

"I tell you, it's a good thing his skeleton is denser than yours and Rose's otherwise -" the fingers on his hand stretched out to mime something exploding, and Zoe looked horrified. He quickly corrected himself. "But yes, he's fine. A bit confused, and he'll have a headache in the morning even with the medication I'll give him but he's good."

She looked uncertain. She glanced around at the room filled with spores that pulsated. She shifted a little closer to him. "An' the Zygons?"

"We've come to an understanding," the Doctor said, wiping his hands on his jeans and picking up his screwdriver before standing up. "They can have their babies here and then they'll be shifting off to find a new planet. Their ship was damaged but it was an easy repair when you know how."

"So you fixed a ship while I was in _that_?" She asked, unimpressed.

"They wouldn't let me at you without me fixing their ship first," he defended himself, feeling a little attacked. "It's been a little busy for me, all right?"

"All right," she said, raising her hands to indicate peace. "An' they're just goin' to let us go now?"

"Don't really have much of a choice," he replied, and she looked at him suspiciously but the slime was in places that she really didn't want it to be and so she didn't press. "You ready to go? I want to make sure Jack hasn't done any permanent damage to his head."

"Yeah, I'm ready to go," she said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're very grouchy right now," the Doctor observed and then took a step back from her when it looked like she wanted to hit him again. "Although I'm sure it's justified."

"They didn't happen to mention why they cocooned me, did they?" Zoe asked as they carefully picked their way across the room, taking care not to brush up against the sleeping baby Zygons.

"Ah, well, that was a bit of a misunderstanding," the Doctor said, rubbing the back of his neck, glad that she was in front of him as it would give him warning if she decided to attack him after he said what he had to say. "They thought you'd escaped from one the maturation pods and were shape shifting so -"

She stopped suddenly, and his body curved to avoid bumping into hers.

"They think I'm a baby!"

"Child, I think, technically," he said quickly, and she looked so put out he gave her a friendly poke in the spine. "They weren't going to hurt you. They just wanted to, you know...make you grow a little more."

"I am so done with this," Zoe declared, taking wet, sticky stomps out of the room. The two nanny Zygons waited outside - burnt red with giant suckers running up and down their bodies. She glared at them. The Doctor thought she looked adorable - wet, sticky, and scowling - but he knew better than to tell her so. "I did _not_ appreciate this. Not at all."

A low gurgling sound came from their throats before the English from the TARDIS translation came through. "We apologise, tiny human -"

"Watch who you're callin' tiny, mate." The London in her came through loud and clear.

"We thought you were one of our young."

"Yeah, yeah," she sighed. "Good luck with the babies."

"Make sure you leave when the children are born," the Doctor warned. "I'll know if you don't."

He left to catch up with Zoe who was moving awkwardly down the corridor. He assumed the slime had got into unpleasant places. He took hold of her hand before releasing it quickly, wiping his hand against his jumper. "Sticky."

She looked utterly miserable. "Please tell me this'll come off with a shower."

"Might need a good scrub down but it'll come off. I'll even lend you my loofah," he promised her, feeling quite generous as his loofah was particularly good. "You know, objectively, this was a good day."

"Jack's concussed, an' I'm covered in slime."

"Yeah, but that's easily fixable," the Doctor replied dismissively. "A nice long shower for you, a trip to the sickbay for Jack and Rose -"

"Wait, Rose?" Zoe interrupted, alarmed. She spun on her heel to face him and he looked down at her. "What happened to Rose?"

"Just a nasty gash," he said reassuringly. "Caught herself on some glass when she tried to stop Jack bouncing on his head. I'll put her back to rights when we get back."

Zoe heaved a heavy sigh and continued walking - the _schlickt-schlickt_ sound of her slime heavy shoes echoing through the empty corridors. He hurried after her. Not even her grumpy mood could detract from the fact he felt happy.

No one had died.

Everyone was happy with the exception of Zoe who would soon forget her displeasure, so, overall, it was a good, good day.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

It took a while to get everyone stitched back together as Jack's injury was severe enough in the light of the medical bay that even the Doctor looked concerned. Zoe was able to wash the slime off under a pressure shower that nearly stripped the flesh from her bones before she got the dial at the right number, but she was still numb when she emerged thirty minutes later with bruising beginning to purple her skin. Rose's gash was easy enough to heal, and all of them were in generally good spirits after dealing with the Zygons. Once they were they rested, fed, and showered though, the Doctor told them that he was taking them somewhere special and wouldn't answer any questions as he input the coordinates and flew them there with a surprising lack of bouncing around.

Nibiru: a planet renowned for its beaches and resort-like atmosphere that was perfect for rest, relaxation, and, if so inclined, sexual activities.

The Doctor gave none of them the opportunity to ask questions or protest the decision if they wanted to, which no one did when they saw the old, tattered brochures that their tour guide and designated driver pressed into their hands. He gathered his friends up and politely but firmly kicked them out of the TARDIS with credit sticks and a warning not to get into too much trouble whilst he told them that he would be doing some much-needed maintenance work on the TARDIS. In the aftermath of her ill-treatment by the Zygons, Zoe resented his stern command to Jack and Rose to take care of her; she threw him the finger before stomping off. Her dramatic exit was sadly ruined when he called after her to tell her she was going the wrong way.

The Doctor proceeded to spend two weeks cleaning out the TARDIS scanners and recalibrating everything he had put off for years. He hadn't been in the right frame of mind after the Time War to do anything more than the most basic maintenance on his girl, but he was feeling much better ever since he had met Rose Tyler in the basement of her workplace and been thrown into her family life. He hummed as he worked, enjoying getting his hands dirty in his ship's innards, bopping his head along to Zoe's collection of cheesy pop music: she had exactly zero taste in music with the sole exception of her love for Queen, but the music she did listen to was catchy, and he found himself singing along to Kelly Clarkson without realising it. The only thing that he found he was missing as he stripped the TARDIS circuits down and cleaned them with an old toothbrush was his friends. He wouldn't have minded their company as he worked.

However, even he was self-aware enough to realise that the maintenance he was conducting was boring even to Jack, who loved tinkering in the TARDIS and flirting with her as he did so; he was still upset that his ship liked the flirtation. So, he let his friends roam free out from under his watchful eye on Nibiru, happy to listen to the stories they brought back to the dinner table each night as they progressively grew browner and browner from their time spent out under the hot sun.

For Jack, Rose, and Zoe, it was fun to explore the planet. Normally they didn't get more than a couple of days in each destination, and sometimes not even that, so it felt like a proper holiday to have a seemingly indefinite time to explore. After the first four days of exploring the city, drinking in bars, meeting new people, and getting into the usual trouble that tourists did, the three of them took a short break to the revered coastal resort of Ishtaf. There they frolicked on the black sandy beaches, drank a lot of fruity cocktails that had a tendency to burst into flame when they touched the tongue, and to watch Jack flirt with everyone who crossed his eyeline. Zoe was often left on her own during those evenings away, as both Jack and Rose found people to spend the night with: at first they felt guilty but she waved off their concerns as she had her books and was happy with her own company.

It was whilst in Ishtaf that Zoe heard of a dance festival that she thought would interest Jack and Rose. Upon their return to the TARDIS a day later, she checked the database and told them that the dance festival happened once every one hundred years on Nibiru, drawing people from all over the galaxy. It was all she needed to tell them before they started making preparations to go. Zoe wouldn't go with them, much to their disappointment, as she couldn't think of anything worse that she would want to do with her time. It sounded like it would be loud and full of happy, drunk people, which was perfect for Jack and Rose who loved nightclubs, and dancing, and being surrounded by people all having fun, but it sounded exhausting for Zoe.

Not that it stopped her getting in on the fun of preparation.

In one of her therapy sessions over the past month, Yatta had suggested finding a hobby because apparently reading didn't count if it was something she already did. Zoe wasn't sure about that logic but Yatta hadn't led her wrong and so she looked for something that she could focus on if she was feeling overwhelmed. Inspired by Rose's art but unable to reproduce it, she looked for something creative to do, and it was Jack who gave her an unexpected nudge in the right direction when she walked in on him doing Rose's make-up one evening. She asked him to teach her and, despite not wearing make-up frequently and having to learn as she went along, she got quite good at it thanks to his patience and a plethora of YouTube tutorials.

Jack was always willing to be a living dummy for her to work on, and he had the most amazing skin to work with: smooth, unblemished, even-coloured, and oddly symmetrical, which made it easier for her to learn. Rose normally kept them company, curling up on Zoe's bed, laughing and encouraging her to try bigger and brighter things. Having followed the sound of their

laughter late one night some weeks ago and discovering what they were doing without him, the Doctor let her apply make-up to him.

He did have to chase Rose around the console room to try and get the picture she took of him back though.

"Oh my god!" Zoe exclaimed on the night of the dance festival when she turned around to pick up some more glitter. She threw her hands over her eyes but it was already too late as the sight of Jack's penis had seared itself into her mind. "Jack, clothes! We have rules for a reason!"

"Oops, sorry, Zo," he apologised good-naturedly, grabbing a towel from the back of a chair and wrapping it around his waist. "Forgot you were here."

"Are you decent?" She asked in a pained voice.

"Never."

"He's decent," Rose said with a laugh. "You can look now."

Tentatively, Zoe lowered her hands and peeked at Jack.

Decent was not an adjective that many people would choose to use to describe Captain Jack Harkness, but he was, at least, covering the parts of him she had no desire to see. She thought about asking why he walked around Rose's room naked but she wasn't sure she actually wanted to know. The two of them got on like a house on fire and when they found something funny, it was impossible to get them to stop laughing. They sparked off each other and got into the strangest of trouble: the Doctor once had to bail them out of a prison cell on Reylar after they were arrested for disturbing the peace. In that particular case, they had been singing Spice Girls loudly at the top of their voices and it was considered an affront to the good citizens of Reylar. The Doctor was not impressed when he paid the fine to get them out and had given them a stern lecture about behaving properly on a planet they needed to come to for Zoe's therapy.

The next week, they started singing S Club 7.

The Doctor threatened to lock them in the TARDIS if they didn't behave.

His jumpers went missing shortly after.

Zoe's relationship with Jack was different as he was kind and brotherly to her. He was an excellent listener and very intelligent, not Doctor-level intelligent but smarter than anyone else she knew, and he was able to help her find the right books to help her understand the Fourth Dimension; he was also able to explain it in a way that didn't make her feel like an idiot. The Doctor had once called her an undercooked potato when she struggled to understand an theory she had asked for clarification on, whereas Jack just broke it down into pieces for her and told her she was a baked potato with extra butter, which she thought was kind.

There was only one thing that she wanted to change about Jack and that was his propensity for nudity. According to the Doctor, nudity was so common in the 51st century that there were no social hang ups about it: clothing was optional in a number of public spaces with the exception of government buildings for employees. Most chose to wear clothes due to the changing weather but at least 10% of the population on Earth went about their daily lives completely nude. That context was important to understand why Jack occasionally wandered about the TARDIS naked. The first time Zoe ran into him when he was naked, she had literally _run_ into him. She had emerged from the library, pleased with her find, and walked straight into him.

After laughing at her horror, the Doctor spoke to Jack and suggested that since he was travelling with two women from the 21st century he might find an easier way to break them into the norms of the 51st century. Jack was an easy-going man and generally remembered to throw boxers on, particularly if he suspected Zoe might be about, but he did occasionally forget. Whilst Zoe was horrified, Rose had absolutely no problems with appreciating Jack's naked form, making Zoe wonder about her sister and she whether were actually related.

Then again, Jackie Tyler would have loved having a man like Jack walk around the flat naked so maybe Zoe was the changeling child.

"You want me to do your make-up?" She offered, her face still burning from the unexpected penis sighting. She was trying hard to be as accepting of Jack's culture as he was of hers because the Doctor told her it had to go both ways and she refused to be closed minded.

"Yes, please," Jack said, sliding into the seat that Rose, face perfectly made up, vacated in front of her. "I'm thinking big, I'm thinking bright, and I'm thinking sparkly."

"To match your personality then," she teased, tugging on his ears and he gave her an upside down grin.

"What d'you think of this?" Rose asked, holding a short red dress up against her dressing gown clad body.

Both Zoe and Jack looked over with identical expressions of critical thoughts on their faces.

"You'll sweat until you're dehydrated in that material," Jack told her.

"You sure you want to wear a dress?" Zoe asked, smoothing moisturiser over his perfect skin to create an even base. "All that dancin' an' your thighs'll chafe all to hell."

Rose pulled a face. "Good point. Okay then...this?"

She held up a sparkling pant suit, and they nixed the idea. They went through a series of outfits as Zoe applied Jack's make-up - big, bright, and sparkly just as requested - before Rose decided on a short, sequinned black dress with a low neckline. Jack promised her he had some spray that would make sure chafing didn't happen, and Rose slid into the dress as unconcerned with her nudity as Jack was with his but at least Zoe was used to her sister's naked body. Zoe was putting the finishing touches onto Jack's eye make-up, her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated on getting the right sharpness to the wings, when the Doctor walked in with a perfunctory knock.

"Done!" He declared triumphantly. "Everything is fully functional and we can -" he stopped talking and took in the state of Rose's room. "Are you going somewhere?"

"There's a dance festival tonight," Rose told him, trying to decide on a pair of shoes that matched the outfit but would also be comfortable for the night's festivities. She held up a pair of sparkly slip ons. "What d'you think?"

"Too much black," the Doctor said absently. "But I'm done. We can go."

"Sorry, Doctor," Jack said. "Rosie and I are off dancing tonight. You wouldn't want all of Zoe's hard work to go to waste, would you?"

He turned his head and fluttered his beautifully made up eyes at the Doctor. Both Jack and Rose knew that the quickest way to get the Doctor to agree to something was to incite the power of Zoe as he was widely accepted as a soft touch when it came to her. His reluctance left him to be replaced with resignation. He dropped down onto Rose's bed and unearthed a pair of white sparkly slip ons to hand to Rose to better compliment her outfit.

"But what am I going to do?" The Doctor asked with a pout shadowing his mouth.

"You can spend time with me," Zoe suggested, putting the make-up away neatly in the case Jack had picked up for her on Reylar shortly before his second arrest.

He visibly perked up. "You're not going?"

"Have I ever given you the impression I'd enjoy a dance festival?" She asked, amused as she moved back from Jack so he could stand up and put on the rest of his clothes, such as they were. "I was plannin' to stay home an' finish my book but I might be persuaded to do something else. As long as there's food involved; I'm feelin' a little peckish."

"There's a literary festival in the 34th century that you'll enjoy," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "Been meaning to take you for a while actually, and if I recall correctly there's a really nice Japanese restaurant close to it."

"Woah, wait just a second," Rose said, pulling back from the mirror where she was putting the finishing touches to her hair. "You're goin' to leave us here?"

"I'll come back for you in the morning."

"Will it be the right morning?" She asked dubiously, and Zoe snorted at the look on the Doctor's face.

"Getting naked!" Jack called considerately over his shoulder, and Zoe was the only one who clapped her hand over her eyes.

"You know, your case was a one-off," the Doctor told her. "I don't make it a habit to go around running late. Besides, the TARDIS is running perfectly now thanks to my underappreciated hard work. You won't even know we're gone."

Rose looked doubtful and, sensing her mood, Zoe waved to get her attention. "I'll make sure he comes back on time. Promise. I'll make him triple check everythin'."

"Decent!" Jack declared, and she peeked through her fingers. He was wearing clothes and looked extremely handsome whilst doing so. "Relax, Rosie. Even if he does get the date wrong, I've got my Vortex Manipulator. We won't be stuck."

Rose looked a bit more comfortable with that reassurance. The Doctor just looked offended.

"You two ready?" Zoe asked, cutting in to forestall an argument. "Got your money sticks? Got your phones?"

"Yes, and yes," Jack replied, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Thanks, Zo."

"Have fun." She beamed up at him. "Have sex with lots of people."

"Thanks, I will," he said, pleased at her encouragement. "I'll keep an eye on Rose too. Don't you fret."

He booped her nose, and Rose hugged her. "Have fun at your book festival, you nerd."

Zoe just flipped her off with a grin and all four of them left Rose's bedroom in a state of explosive disarray. She watched them leave the TARDIS, hand in hand and bouncing excitedly towards the sight of the festival, the setting sun framing them with golden light. With the doors open, the noise was already beginning to rise high up into the air and sweep across the land. She shut the door on the noise and turned around to look expectantly at the Doctor.

"Literary festival, you say?"

Delighted to have her to himself, he threw a lever on the control panel and enjoyed the expression of excited expectation on her face.

* * *

They landed on a sunny day and Zoe skipped back into the TARDIS to change into something more appropriate for summer weather: the leggings and T-shirt she wore to lounge around the TARDIS in weren't really appropriate for the outside worlds. She re-emerged in a pretty sundress having used using some of Jack's thigh spray that was left on Rose's bed, and she rubbed some sun cream into the back of her neck, sunglasses propped on the top of her head. Her hair was growing back in nicely, and Jack had taught her a few style tricks for her shorter crop that she liked. She stopped at the sight of the Doctor and stared.

"You're not takin' your jacket?" Zoe asked, surprised.

"It looks a little hot," the Doctor said. "And I didn't want to listen to you nagging all day."

"I don't nag," she said, and he opened his mouth to argue the point but she cut him off. "You look nice. Almost like a real bloke."

"Oi!" He protested, corners of his eyes crinkling into a smile. "I am a real bloke."

"If you keep sayin' it, one day it might come true," she said with her mouth turned up at the corners. She held out her hand, wriggling her fingers at him as though he would say no to holding her hand. They left the TARDIS, and she breathed in deep before looking surprised. "Is this Earth?"

"Yep."

"Oh my god, I thought we were goin' to another planet," she laughed, putting her sunglasses down over her eyes. "This is so weird. Earth in the future."

"You've spent time in Earth's future before," the Doctor said, leading her out of the field the TARDIS was parked in. He put his hands around her waist and lifted her over a turnstile to save her climbing it. "Utah and France."

"Utah was 2012," she said as though the near future didn't count. "An' we spent most of that time runnin' from a Dalek. I didn't actually get to see any of the future then. I'll give you France though." Their fingers intertwined again. "It's just weird. It kind of feels like another world but not because certain things are similar like the sky an' the air. It smells the same, y'know?"

"Less pollution in this century," he replied, enjoying her observations. "It really smells the same to you?"

"I think so," she said. "Or maybe I'm just trickin' my mind into thinkin' it does. It just...it smells like home."

"London does not smell like this," the Doctor said emphatically. "This is fresh air. London is the exact opposite."

"It's not that bad."

"I have actually been in rubbish dumps that smelt better than London."

"For someone who seems set against London so much, you sure do spend a lot of your time there," Zoe said teasingly. "Do you think if you landed in Jakarta when you first arrived on Earth things would have been different?"

"That I would have spent all my time there instead?" He asked, and she nodded. "Maybe, maybe not. It was the sixties and neither Susan nor I would have blended in well there. At the time, I was more conscious of not letting the locals know we were aliens."

"How times change," she chuckled. "How long did that last?"

"About three months," he confessed. "And then Barbara and Ian just walked into the TARDIS and the game was up."

"I still can't believe you didn't think about lockin' the door." She shook her head. "Alien lands on Earth with his big ol' spaceship, an' he doesn't even consider locking the door."

"I didn't think humans would just walk in," he protested, and she grinned at his exasperated, fond tone. "I know better now, obviously."

"Didn't Tegan also just walk straight into the TARDIS?"

"Not the point," the Doctor told her, and she laughed, warm and bright. "Remind me to stop telling you things."

"Never." She smiled up at him. "I like it when you tell me things."

He felt absurdly pleased at that, and he felt his ears start to warm. To distract himself from the feeling growing in his stomach, he started to point out landmarks to her. The literary festival was taking place in Poland that year and, never having been to Poland in her own time, Zoe was interested in the history he was telling her. Despite her teasing to the contrary, she enjoyed it when he played tour guide as he knew lots about everything and nothing. She was considering asking him to take them to Poland in her time for a short weekend break when they turned the corner and walked into the entrance of the literary festival without any warning.

There must have been a sound dampening field over the festival because they passed under an archway of books and it was as though their ears popped: a roar of noise hit them like a wave, and it took a moment for Zoe to adjust. When she did, she looked around in delight: rows upon rows of beautiful market stalls were filled with books. The shops along the streets had been temporarily converted to hold books instead of their usual wares; people were dressed up as their favourite characters, and she was thrilled to recognise a lot of the characters from Harry Potter amongst the crowd as its appeal apparently endured well after its time. There was a faint smell of the food stalls that were dotted about, and Zoe rose up onto her toes to try and peer through the masses.

She dragged the Doctor into the crowd of people, excitement and curiosity pushing her along the smooth streets.

"I'm a little surprised," she said some time later, carrying a bag of purchased books in one hand. "Given all the technology available in this century, I wouldn't have thought that people still read physical books. I would've assumed that e-books were the way to go."

"There's a good market for them," the Doctor said. "But most people still prefer the comfort of a physical copy."

"What about on Gallifrey?" She asked, distracted by a stall of brightly covered books; she pulled him towards them.

"Oh, physical books all the way." He said, finding her occasional mentions of his home less painful over time: a pain shared was a pain lessened he discovered. "Academic articles and textbooks were usually electronic but they always had a physical copy as well. There was a move to go fully electronic when I was a child. I remember Brax complaining about it. There were some groups protesting outside his library and he wanted them gone. Nothing ever happened with it though."

"I'm trying to imagine Time Lords protestin'," Zoe said with a bemused look as she browsed the books in front of her. "All I can think of are solemn old men standin' a vigil in those robes you showed me."

He snorted. "You're not far wrong but it was the Gallifreyans who were protesting. They were the ones who produced the books and they viewed it as another form of subjugation by the elite."

"Was it?" She asked curiously, handing over some money to pay for the books she had decided on.

"Perhaps a little," he said, tilting his head to look at her purchases before she slipped them into her cotton bag. "Let me carry that for you."

"I've got it."

"Please," he requested, and she handed it over with a show of reluctance but he felt better for carrying it. "Now you've two free hands to search for books, although we do have all of these on the TARDIS."

" _You_ have all of these," she corrected him. "I need to build my own collection, thank you very much."

"It's not as though you're going anywhere anytime -" he caught himself before he finished the sentence but it was too late.

After that first night, they didn't talk about the glimpse they had had into their futures. The fact that Future Zoe was from a point in his future where he had a different face and she was a professor indicated that they had years together they weren't expecting. It took at least eight to ten years to have the educational background to become a professor and depending on her field of study maybe longer too. When she came aboard the TARDIS nearly six months before, she had told him that she would stay for one year, possibly two, before she would leave for university. Neither of them expected her to return to travel with him but the visit from Future Zoe showed them differently.

The Doctor kissing her and Future Zoe kissing him had left their future together seemingly intertwined. Not that they had spoken about that, holding the memories close to their hearts and secret in their minds.

"I'll still need them for university," Zoe said, cutting through the uncertain tension that arose between them. "Can't keep callin' you every time I want a new book to read."

"I wouldn't mind," he said, and his tone was just a little too honest and heartfelt. She glanced away from him, cheeks pink. He felt awkward and looked around. "You hungry?"

"Always," she answered, and he was amazed at how much food she could pack into her tiny human body because she always seemed ready to eat.

"It's not Japanese but it's just as good," he said, steering her towards a food stand that had meat on a rotary like in a kebab shop. "Just don't ask what it is."

She closed the mouth she had opened to ask just that question.

* * *

The literary festival was a great success even if Zoe did go a little overboard with books that the Doctor helped her carry into her bedroom. They spilled across the floor in a happy tumble, and he knew that she would cheerfully spend all night sorting through them and putting them in order of how she wanted to read them. She was rather precious about her system, and he quickly learnt it for fear of having something thrown at his head as Jack had had done when he browsed through her books and put one back in the wrong place. Instead of letting her sit amongst her spoils, he took her to Planet One for a picnic.

"But how can you be sure this is the oldest known planet in the universe?" Zoe asked, using the machete he had given her to beat back the dense foliage that they were trekking through to get to their destination, which was the best picnic spot in the universe: at least according to the Doctor.

"I'm a time traveller," he said. "Of course I'm sure."

"Well, was it the first planet to form or the first planet to support life?" She asked, ducking a low hanging branch.

The heat in the jungle was oppressive and her skin glimmered with sweat but he seemed entirely unperturbed by it and kept his green jumper on. He made a concession to the heat by pushing the sleeves up to his elbows. She tried and failed not to be distracted by his forearms.

"The first planet to form," he said. "Gallifrey was the first planet to support life."

"Now I think you're talkin' out of your - oh."

They broke free of the dense jungle and stepped into a wide open field with grass greener than she thought was possible. Flowers as large as the TARDIS bloomed out of the earth in a huge array of colours, the likes of which she'd never seen. Butterflies as large as tigers lifted up off of the ground, their colourful wings flapping a breeze across her sweat-glistening skin, cooling her down. A soft, gentle smell of exquisite beauty gently rushed across the field, and she swayed as the delight of her surroundings left her feeling soft and happy. The Doctor watched her expression, entranced.

"What do you think?" He asked quietly, loathe to brush the expression off her face.

"I think it's wonderful," Zoe breathed, eyes shining. "Thank you."

He took her hand and led her to a less grassy area where they set up their picnic. They spread the chequered blanket across the grass, and he set down the wicker basket he had carried with them through the jungle. It was full of her favourite foods: chicken sandwiches, fruit salad, stuffed vine leaves, the pink lemonade he made that she loved, and the leftover banana cake Rose had made the other night to coax him out of repairing the TARDIS. It wasn't often the two of them got to do something alone, not that he minded; he loved Rose and Jack even if he would never be able to tell them, but he did feel closer to Zoe due to the sheer weight of knowledge she possessed about him. He watched her pop a piece of watermelon into her mouth, and he remembered the taste of her when she had kissed him.

He looked away.

She chewed on her sandwich, watching him. He shifted under her gaze, suddenly self-conscious. "What?"

"Just..." she started, lowering her sandwich and swallowing. "I don't think I've ever told you."

"Told me what?"

"How glad I am that you came back for me," Zoe said honestly. "I said no to travellin' with you, but you made an exception for me, an' I'm really, really glad you did. Travellin' with you...I love it."

Like a sun dawning across the plains, a smile appeared on his face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said through a wide smile. "So thank you."

* * *

After Planet One, they explored the ruins of Tanagra, the home of the once mighty Tanagran civilisation that spread democracy and peace throughout the galaxy for aeons before they fell victim to a vicious plague that wiped them out. He assured her that there was no lingering plague on the planet and also offered to take her to Tanagra at its height but she was happy stomping around in ruins, dust coating the bottom of her legs. He didn't complain too much when she took them on a hike through the mountains around the capital city of Gracia and found a waterfall that shone a beautiful rainbow out into the desolate environment around them. He yelped in surprise when she threw herself off the cliff edge and screamed her delight all the way down, disappearing beneath the glittering surface. She resurfaced and, even from the height he stood at, he could see her smile.

"Come join me!" She called up to him, and he removed his jumper and shoes and left them next to hers; her laughter kept him company on the way down.

She seemed more interested in swimming circles around him and trying to get hold of him than exploring the underwater ruins beneath them. She dove beneath the water, and he let out a startled sound when her hand wrapped around her ankle and tugged him under the surface. They spent a few hours playing in the water and jumping from the waterfall before her long day – the literary festival, Planet One, Tanagra - started to catch up to her, and they put their shoes back on and made their way back to the TARDIS. She wore his jumper over her soaked dress and swayed into him as she walked, looking relaxed and happy.

He sent her off to bed with a kiss on the forehead and begged off joining her as he had work to do on the TARDIS; she was sleepy enough that she didn't notice his lie as he had fixed all the TARDIS problems in the two weeks they had spent on Nibiru. The truth was that he needed a little distance from her so that he could catch his breath.

He chastised himself as he lay under the console of the TARDIS, his goggles on the top of his head, beating himself up. He was a ridiculous old man who was pining after a seventeen-year-old girl as though he was a lad of two hundred again. If his old friends on Gallifrey could see him now: Romana would laugh herself sick at him; the Master would most likely join her though his amusement always had a cruel lilt to it. In all his years of travelling in the TARDIS with humans, he had never come close to the attachment he wanted to form with Zoe. He loved his friends, dearly and without complication, each and everyone of them filled a special place within him but Zoe was threatening to rise above them all and he wanted it to stop.

Humans were good at ending relationships; he had seen it happen hundreds of times. He took out his phone and accessed the Internet, except it wasn't called the Internet because that was a human word but it was close enough for his purposes. He spent the six hours Zoe was sleeping trying to find a way to stop his feelings for her. The advice ranged from finding a new hobby to having the memories cut out of him. He felt there was a middle ground missing somewhere and was scowling at the under panel of the TARDIS when Zoe emerged, dressed in a fresh pair of jeans and a soft looking grey jumper.

"Hello," Zoe smiled at him, bending double to peer at him beneath the console. She looked a little bemused. "I thought you'd fixed everythin' that needed fixin'."

"A little tune-up can't hurt," the Doctor said, glad she couldn't see his treacherous ears that burned at the sight of her. She had no idea what she did to him. Why would she? She had spent her life in the shadow Rose inadvertently cast over her. "Sleep well?"

"For the first time in a long time, I didn't have any nightmares," she said, happy and warm, and he pushed out from beneath the console to sit up, delighted.

"That's wonderful."

"I'd forgotten what it was like to sleep through," she admitted, one hand holding the opposite elbow. "I was thinkin' I'd make banana pancakes if you're hungry...before we go an' get Rose an' Jack."

"I'm always hungry for banana pancakes," the Doctor said, and he went to push his body up off the floor but she stretched out a hand instead and he took it. He doubted he was capable of ignoring her touch.

For all his fear of domesticity, which he had lost long ago when Levokania died in the explosion, he liked to watch Zoe potter about the kitchen. She seemed as though she fit there, humming away as she worked. He remembered watching Levokania move about the kitchen: she moved quicker, constantly dropping things as her mind ran at a hundred miles an hour, but she was always laughing. It was the thing he missed the most, or at least the thing he noticed the absence of the most, in the days and weeks after her death: the echoing silence where her laughter had once been. Zoe was quieter than Levokania but they had the same curiosity that burned within them, the same drive as they strove for a better life, the same passion for learning. He wished Levokania could have met Zoe as the two would have made great friends.

"Circles or funny shapes?" Zoe asked over her shoulder, drawing him from his melancholy.

"Funny shapes, of course," the Doctor said as she was incapable of making the perfect, round pancakes that were in the pictures of various cookbooks though she did like to try.

"Here you go," she said, serving the pancakes with a smile and sitting with him. "Pancakes à la Zoe."

"The best kind," he told her, and she beamed at him.

"Where are we goin' next then?" She asked him around bites of food. "When we pick up Rose and Jack?"

"You think they'll want to go somewhere?" He asked. "Fiver says they'll be too hungover to do anything for days."

"I'm not takin' that bet," Zoe scoffed. "I look like an idiot to you?"

 _No_ he thought. "Think they'll be on time?"

"No," she laughed. "Rose has never left a party in her life. She once had a barney with Shareen at Shaz's 16th but Rosie still stayed the whole night. Said it seemed rude to leave."

The Doctor snorted. "Jack's the same, I reckon."

"Worse," Zoe grinned, and she looked at him with laughter in her eyes and affection on her mouth that he couldn't stop himself.

"You know, we do have a time machine," he heard himself saying as he moved to clear away the dishes before she could stand up. He remembered Rose's expression when she walked in on him doing the washing up. It was a mundane and domestic activity and not what she had expected from a man who promised her all of time and space: Zoe took it much more as a given that he would do the washing up, particularly if she did the cooking.

"Is that what this is?" She asked with an expression of exaggerated surprise plastered across her face, looking around the TARDIS kitchen in wonder. "I thought she was just a fancy police box. Gosh, Doctor, I wished you'd have told me sooner. Imagine all the places we could've visited if only I knew."

The TARDIS flashed her laughter above them, the lights going on and off.

"Oi, don't you start," the Doctor warned his ship fondly, hands soapy. "What I mean, you annoying ape, is that we don't have to go back for Jack and Rose just yet. We could take a little side trip."

"A side trip?" She asked, curiosity peaked. She leaned back in her chair so she could face him properly, her long legs stretched out in front of her, tapering off into her favourite boots. There was a smile pulling on her face. He knew he had her. "Where to?"

"I thought I'd put her on random and see where she takes us," he said, stacking the crockery to dry. She wasn't a particularly messy cook, which was a fact that he appreciated. "But if you want to go straight back, we can."

"Well..." she drew a pattern with the tip of her finger on the surface of the wooden dining table: a purchase from the carpenter Jesus of Nazareth back when the Doctor was new to Earth and Susan had wanted a table at which to eat. "Like you said...we do have a time machine."

"That's the spirit," the Doctor grinned, drying his hands on a tea towel and offering them to her. She took them, and he pulled her to her feet, making her laugh as he turned her around as though they were dancing.

 _Definitely a ridiculous old man_ he thought with a smile at the back of her head.

"Can I drive this time?" She asked him, her fingers linking with his.

"Absolutely not."

"One day, Doctor, you're going to wish I knew how to fly the TARDIS," Zoe warned him with a mirthful expression.

"I'll take my chances," he replied, booping her on the nose before giving her a small nudge and racing her to the console room.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty**

"Oh, a spaceship!" Zoe exclaimed, thrilled when she stepped out of the TARDIS onto the flight deck of a quiet spaceship. He was at her shoulder closing the doors behind them. "Y'know, this is my very first spaceship. It's not very Star Trek though, is it?"

"For the thousandth time, Star Trek is not a realistic representation of space travel in any era," the Doctor said, fondly exasperated with her. "All that comfort and holodecks. Space travel is a lot more different; a lot more dangerous."

"Says the man who always travels first class with a swimming pool _an'_ a library," she said, pointing at the TARDIS with a jerk of her thumb. If it was possible for his ship to preen, it would have. Zoe brushed some dust off of the nearest surface and rubbed it between her fingers before showing it to him. "Looks like someone's been goin' easy on the cleanin' though. Anyone on board?"

"Nah, nothing here. Well, nothing dangerous. Well, not that dangerous," the Doctor said, rambling. She raised her eyebrows at him. "You know what, I'll just have a quick look in case there's anything dangerous."

"So, what's the date? How far have we gone?" She asked him, peering out of a viewport window with a smile on her face. She loved the TARDIS but there weren't exactly windows to look outside to see the expanse of space and the inside of the Vortex.

"About three thousand years into your future, give or take," he said, bending over a console and finding a light switch to turn it on. Above their heads, part of the ceiling gave way to show the stars glittering like diamonds against the velvet black cloth of space. "51st century, Jack's time, the Diagmar Cluster. You're a long way from home, Zoe Tyler. About two and a half galaxies away."

"This is brilliant," she smiled at him, pleased he had suggested the side trip.

He beamed back at her before turning his attention onto the ship that shouldn't, in all actuality, be so quiet. It wasn't until the late 80th century that ships started to run purely on automation, and there should have been some crew members to gape at the TARDIS and splutter in confusion at their arrival. He was a little put out that that didn't happen: he liked the spluttering. It was an easy enough task to access the ship's internal systems, especially as no one was there to stop him, but what he saw made him whistle low in surprise. Zoe rested her hand on his back when she moved away from the porthole.

"What is it?"

"There have been some gremlins in the system," he said, shifting to one side so that she could see the computer screens more clearly. "There's a ton of repair work going on all through the ship at every level, which is unusual enough, but look here." He drew her attention to the readouts from engineering. "Look at that. All the warp engines are going. Full capacity. There's enough power running through this ship to punch a hole in the universe, but we're not moving. So where's all that power going?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Zoe said, taking a seat in front of the computer screen. "We should probably check to see that the computer isn't givin' us false readings, right?"

He stared proudly at the top of her head. "Right."

"Okay, let me see if I remember how to do this," she said to herself and searched through the system to find what she needed. It was significantly slower than when he did it but she had been learning the ins and outs of computer systems of late: something to do when she couldn't sleep because of the nightmares. " _Oh._ They're not false readings."

"Nope."

"But this is interestin'," she said, pointing to the screen, and he followed the line of her finger to what had caught her eye. "Look at this. Two life signs: you an' me. Don't you think there should be some crew on board?"

"I do think that," he agreed, looking around curiously. "I wonder where they went."

"All the escape pods are still in their berths," she told him, accessing more information in the computer with confident fingers. "None of the emergency systems have been activated either. No distress call...there's been huge damage to the computer system though. The information is fragmented."

"This far out in space?" He replied, frowning at a peculiar smell in the air. "Could be anything. Do you smell that?"

She looked up from the computer and sniffed the air.

"Smells like someone's roasting beef," she decided. "Where's it comin' from?"

The Doctor leaned over her, and he was so close that the curls of her hair tickled his throat and the warmth of her human body spilled into his chest. He bracketed her with his arms as he typed a command into the computer. There was a sharp click and a hiss. They looked up at the wall nearest to them. The dull grey wall of the spaceship slid open to reveal a huge and ornate fireplace set against a yellow and white panelled wall with candles burning at the wick, set into golden candle holders that were mounted on the wall: a fire was blazing in the hearth and it exuded real heat. An ormolu clock sat on the mantelpiece above the fire and both of them were so surprised by the strange and unexpected appearance that they just stared at it for a long moment without saying a word.

"Well, I didn't expect that," the Doctor said, breaking the surprised silence. He moved towards the fireplace and examined it, running his hands over it before introducing his screwdriver into the mix. "Eighteenth century, French. Nice mantle. Not a hologram; it's not even a reproduction. This actually is an eighteenth century French fireplace, double sided. There's another room through there."

"Can't be," Zoe said, rising to her feet and looking out of the porthole that was located in the same wall. "That's the outer hull of the ship. Look."

She moved so that he could run his screwdriver over the bulkhead wall, and she went to examine the fireplace. It felt real to the touch and looked incredibly detailed. Despite her knowledge of the French language, her knowledge of French history was somewhat lacking, particularly French design history. She crouched down in front of the fire and extended her hands towards it. It was incredible: she could really feel the heat of the flame against her hand, and she pulled back before she touched it. As far as she knew, fire and pressurised craft in a vacuum made for a very bad combination. She was about to stand up when something, or rather someone, made her jump in surprise: a young girl in a white nightgown appeared on the other side of the fire.

It was hard pressed to tell who looked more surprised: Zoe or the girl.

"Oh, hello," Zoe said, startled into routine politeness.

The Doctor looked around to see who she was talking to. The young girl looked cautious and curious. "Hello."

"Who are you?" Zoe asked, feeling the Doctor moving to stand behind her. There wasn't space for both of them in front of the fire and perhaps the appearance of a strange man - for none were stranger than the Doctor - would startle the girl and make her disappearance.

"Reinette," the girl answered.

"Reinette," Zoe said with a kind smile, glancing up at the Doctor who gave her a complicated hand gesture that she was sure meant something but she couldn't translate it. "That's a lovely name. My name's Zoe. Listen, Reinette, can you tell me where you are right now?"

"In my bedroom."

"An' where's your bedroom?" Zoe asked as the Doctor's knee brushed against her back, pressing a little between her shoulders to encourage her the right questions. "Where d'you live?"

"Paris, of course."

"Of course," she said. "How silly of me. Paris."

"Madam, what are you doing in my fireplace?" Reinette asked curiously, not at all afraid of the strange woman speaking to her through the fireplace: children were remarkably resilient and adaptable creatures.

"Oh...I...er..." she floundered for a proper excuse, still not used to inventing plausible excuses on a whim.

"Fire check," the Doctor whispered from above her.

"Just a routine fire check," Zoe replied with a smile to cover the bad lie. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

"Of course I can," the girl said in the manner that all children did when asked a question they considered stupid. "It's 1727."

"1727? That's – um – lovely, I'm sure," Zoe said, and the Doctor tapped her shoulder. "Well, I think I should go now. It's – er – it's a busy job checkin' all the fires. Thanks for your help, Reinette. Sleep tight."

Reinette managed a small smile. "Goodnight, madam."

Zoe stood up and stepped away from the fireplace. She glanced back at the hearth to make sure no children were listening before she spoke.

"That was weird as fuck," she said. "I thought you said this was the 51st century."

"I also said this ship was generatin' enough power to punch a hole in the universe." The Doctor replied. "I think we just found the hole."

"But what is it?"

His hand rasped over his stubble when he ran it over his face. "Must be a spatio-temporal hyperlink."

She blinked at him. "What's that when it's at home?"

"No idea," he shrugged, scratching behind his ear. "Just made it up. Didn't want to say magic door."

"Jesus." She shook her head, amused. He grinned at her. "An' on the other side of the magic door is France in 1727?"

"Well, she was speaking French," the Doctor said. "Right period French, too."

"Wait, hold up." Zoe held up a hand. The fact there was a magic door to France in the 1720s was less important than what he had just said for a minute. "I thought you an' I agreed that the TARDIS wouldn't translate French for me."

"18th century French is a little different from the French that you speak," he said. "But I can fix that later if you like, but maybe we should focus on the fact that pre-revolutionary France is just through that fireplace, hmm?"

"Fair enough," she agreed, and she turned back to look at the fireplace. An idea pricked at the back of her mind and coalesced into a full thought in the time it took her to walk back over to it, stepping onto the stonework. He watched her curiously as she ran her hands over the wall and the mantel. "You ever seen Scooby Doo?"

"The cartoon?"

"No, the stage play." She rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, the cartoon."

"What about it?"

"I loved it when I was a kid," she said, not looking at him but rather reaching under the mantel and feeling around. "That an' Dexter's Lab. I loved all the Cartoon Network stuff."

"Is there a point to this?" He asked, bemused but willing to see where her thoughts were taking her.

"In the cartoons, there's always a secret button you can press that'll reveal a secret door or do the weird spinny thing that - _woah!"_ Her eyes went wide when she tugged on a mounted candle holder that turned out to be a lever, just like in the cartoons. The fireplace started to rotate and she looked at him, startled. "Doctor!"

The Doctor raised his screwdriver to halt the rotation of the fireplace but he was too late. Zoe disappeared out of sight, and he was left staring at the fireplace that lacked the candle holder Zoe had pulled. Clearly there was only one side that was made for access, which was interesting even if slightly alarming given that he was now separated from Zoe. Still, at least it was informative.

On the other side of the fireplace, which settled into position in a dark bedroom, Zoe let go of the candle holder and, when nothing rushed from the darkness to attack her, she relaxed and stepped down, her boots making a soft sound against the marble floor. A clock was ticking loudly somewhere, and there was snow gently sprinkling against the window with a small child beneath the covers on the bed. Zoe moved quietly but clearly not quietly enough for Reinette awoke with a start and looked around, wide eyed with fear.

"Hey, no, it's okay," Zoe immediately soothed, hands held up. She stepped into the faint light of the moon that peaked through a break in the heavy clouds. "Don't scream. It's me. The woman from the fireplace. See? We were talkin' just a few moments ago, remember? I was in your fireplace."

"Madam, that was weeks ago," Reinette said, breathless with surprise and wonder; she had told herself seeing the woman in the fireplace was a dream that she soon forgot, letting it brush against the edges of her memory. "Months."

"Really?" She asked, surprised: even to her lack of experience, it seemed odd the time differential would be so large. "I'll - er - get my friend to look at that. He's good at these sorts of things."

Reinette sat up in her bed, her back against her pillows, the covers pulled across her lap. She wore the same nightgown she'd spoken to Zoe in moments, or months, before. "Who are you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm Zoe, like I said," she said, looking around the bedroom with open curiosity. "This is a nice room, Reinette. Is it all yours?"

"Of course."

"No brothers or sisters?"

"No, madam."

"Shame," Zoe said. "I've got a sister. Always had to share a room with her though. Nothin' as big as this. Much, much smaller, in fact"

"Do you live in the fireplace?" Reinette asked, her knees drawn up to her chest and her thin arms looped around them.

"No, but that would be great, wouldn't it?" She asked with a grin, enjoying the thought of what life would be like if she called a fireplace her home.. "Hey, d'you have any matches to light a candle? It's a little dark in here."

"I'm not allowed to use matches, madam."

"Sensible," she nodded. "But if you could point me to them, I can light a candle."

Reinette pointed silently across the room to the ornate vanity table. Zoe caught sight of her reflection: she was wearing jeans made of material that wouldn't be invented for a couple of centuries and her skin was decidedly not white. She knew the Doctor said history was a whitewash but she didn't know how many people of colour there were in the aristocratic circles of 18th century France. She realised how strange she must look to the young girl, and she hoped the girl didn't mistake her for a slave. After a few false starts, Zoe emerged with a box of matches clasped in her hand. She lit two candles and smiled down at Reinette.

"There we go. Much better, huh? We can see each other now. D'you mind if I sit down?" Reinette shook her head, and Zoe sat on the edge of the bed. It was better quality than her mattress back home in London but not as good as the one she had on the TARDIS.

"Are you from Africa, madam?"

"Africa?" She repeated, holding out her arm so that Reinette could touch her skin with fingers of wonder. "No. I'm from London."

"In England?" Her eyes were wide with delight. "How wonderful."

"Is it?" She asked. "I think Paris is wonderful myself." Reinette smiled at her and removed her hand from her arm. "Tell me, Reinette, has anythin' that's not me come through your fireplace?"

"No, madam," she said. "Just you."

"Strange," Zoe mused, crossing her ankles and leaning back on her elbows. She cast her eye around the room that flickered in the candlelight and tried to think like the Doctor. "D'you recognise everythin' in this room? Nothing unusual?"

To her credit, Reinette looked before answering. "No, madam."

"Hmm," Zoe said, and she considered just going back through the fireplace as the Doctor would be worried sick about her, not to mention he was better at finding out unusual things than her. He seemed to know exactly what was amiss instantly. "Well, since I'm here, let me tuck you in before I head off. What time is it anyway?"

She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.

"That clock is broken, madam," Reinette said, shuffling down in her bed to allow Zoe to tuck her in. She looked up at her expectantly when Zoe didn't move.

"Broken?" She repeated, a cold shiver running down her spine. "Okay. I really wish you hadn't said that, Reinette, because now I'm a little scared."

"You're scared of a broken clock?" The child asked, and Zoe looked into her pretty face.

"A little bit, yeah," Zoe replied, trying to stay calm. She didn't want to scare Reinette but she wasn't entirely sure what to do. She hated horror films for the aspect of suspense; she hated knowing that something was hiding in the dark or behind a locked door waiting for her. Her hands shook a little but she hid them in the folds of Reinette's blanket. "See, if this clock here is broken an' it's the only clock in the room...then what's makin' that tickin' sound?"

Reinette drew in a sharp breath, and she curled her body tighter in on itself.

Zoe tilted her head to one side and listened over the sound of her heart beating loudly in her ears.

"Does that sound like a clock to you?" She asked quietly, the loud ticking sound was almost echoing through the room. It was amazing Reinette had been able to sleep through it as it sounded so loud and intrusive. "Because it doesn't sound like one to me. Maybe a big clock like Big Ben but there are no big clocks here."

"What is it?" Reinette asked, voice trembling with fear and her eyes darted back and forth around the room.

"That is a very good question, Reinette, well done," Zoe said, trying to ease her fear at the same time that she tried to manage her out. She reached out and touched the child's nose with the tip of her finger, drawing a small smile from her. "Let's think about it, shall we? Always a good idea to think out loud, get the brain juices running. That's what Mr Chesterton always said."

"Who's Mr Chesterton?"

"An old teacher of mine," she answered, distracted. "Okay, so, why is your clock broken? Why would someone or somethin' break the clock?"

"They don't like clocks?" The little girl suggested, and Zoe smiled at her.

"That's definitely a possibility," she agreed. "I don't like loud clocks, I find them annoyin', so I might just break one if I got grumpy. What else? What else? Come on, Zoe think." She drummed her fingers against the mattress. "Oh, here's a thing that I absolutely don't like but is still somethin'...what if _you_ ticked?"

"Madam?"

"Like the crocodile," she said only to remember that Peter Pan hadn't been written yet. "Never mind. But what if you were a thing that was tickin'? No one notices the sound of one clock tickin', but two? So if you're the thing that was tickin' then the first thing you'd do is break the clock, right? Otherwise you might start to wonder if you're really alone."

Zoe glanced down at the bed and at her legs that stretched out from it. When she was a child, Rose once scared her by hiding under the bed and reaching out to touch her hand to her ankle. Zoe had screamed the flat down and had to sleep with a cheap night light for months. She felt like she was five years old again, but she knew her sister wasn't hiding beneath the bed this time. She had faced worse than whatever was under Reinette's bed, but her mouth still felt dry and her body unnatural and large, but softly and calmly, she spoke to Reinette.

"Stay on the bed," she instructed. "Right in the middle. Don't put your hands or feet over the edge, okay?"

Reinette nodded, terrified.

Zoe took her phone out of her back pocket and rose to her feet. Reinette watched her with wide eyes. She typed in her access code and activated the torch app: a powerful beam of light spilled out of it, and she was glad the Doctor occasionally messed around with her phone as it heightened the power of everything. With her heart in her throat and the wish that there was a more adult _adult_ in the general vicinity, she knelt on the floor by the bed, one hand bracing her body on the mattress. Reinette trembled against her pillows, and Zoe aimed her phone into the shadows under the bed. Something hard and heavy lashed out and knocked it out of her hand. It went spinning away from her, clattering across the floor. She looked up and a blinding fear gripped her. Her eyes moved from the silhouetted form of the unusual clockwork android to look at the child on the bed.

"Reinette," she whispered, eyes fixed on Reinette. "Don't look around."

The clockwork android made a move towards them.

"No!" Zoe exclaimed, flinging a hand out as though that would stay it in its tracks. "You stay exactly where you are."

She jumped to her feet and dashed across the room to pick up her phone. She snatched it up and was back at Reinette's side in seconds, the thrumming of her heart making her chest ache. She accessed the updated app the Doctor had put on her phone as an afterthought because _you never know when you'll need it, don't look at me like that_. It was a scanning device: not nearly as comprehensive as his screwdriver's abilities but it did the job. She aimed it at the android and scanned it, cataloguing the information, uploading it to the memory on her phone, certain the Doctor would like to see it when she got back to him. She kept her eyes on it as often as she could, darting back and forth between it and her phone. She noticed it had recently completed a scan.

"What's this?" Zoe asked, turning her phone onto Reinette, and she ran it over her golden head, concerned at what she was seeing. "You've been scannin' her brain. Why have you been scannin' her brain?"

Reinette looked up at her, scared and so very young. "I don't understand. It wants me? You want me?"

"Not yet," the android answered and Reinette glanced around at it, gasping in surprise and fear. She moved closer to Zoe, kneeling in the centre of her bed and clutching at the older woman's hand. "You are incomplete."

"What does that mean, _incomplete?"_ Zoe frowned but the android remained silent: it appeared to only answer to Reinette. "Hey, if you can answer her, then you can answer me. What do you mean she's incomplete?"

A long, sharp blade slid out of its hand, and it moved in a stiff and jerking fashion around the bed. Reinette cried out in fear and warning. "Madam, be careful!"

"Yep, good call!" She exclaimed, pulling her hand free and lurching back. "Definitely goin' to be careful!"

She tripped.

"Madam!"

"Don't worry, Reinette!" Zoe called out, leaping back into her feet and nearly tripping again as she nearly bent over backwards to avoid a violent slash aimed across her stomach. Her foot slipped out from beneath her, and she stumbled up the few steps back towards the fireplace, her clumsiness uncharacteristic. "You just go back to sleep. Forget this ever happened, okay? I'll take care of this."

She dropped to a crouch, or rather she fell, in front of the fireplace and glanced up. The android's blade came down hard into the mantelpiece and got stuck, pieces of stone cracked against it as its mechanical arm strained to remove the blade. Seizing her opportunity, Zoe pushed up onto her feet and spun on the balls of her toes. She grabbed hold of the candle holder lever, which had brought her into Reinette's bedroom, and pulled it down towards her. The fireplace activated, and the world span around her. Reinette stared with an open mouth before she disappeared from Zoe's view and the Doctor appeared before her eyes again. She jumped off the fireplace and ended up attempting to climb him.

"What -?" He started, confused, hands flailing over her, uncertain as to where to put his hands.

"Stop it!" She yelped, hands batting against his chest as the android worked itself free and started for them. The Doctor's screwdriver was useless against it and so she ducked beneath his arms and around the android. She grabbed a fire extinguisher from the side and her first instinct was to lift the extinguisher up and slam it against the android's head. It had no effect except to attract its attention. "Shit."

"Use it!" The Doctor shouted.

"Use what?"

"The fire extinguisher!" He rolled his eyes.

"Oh, yeah," she said, struggling to release the catch, drenching her shoe in its cold contents before she directed the stream at the android's head. It slowly seized, its movements becoming jerkier and stiffer until it stopped, frozen in position. She panted. "Bloody hell. I've never used a fire extinguisher before. It's harder than it looks."

"Where did that come from?" The Doctor asked, taking the empty fire extinguisher from her and tossing it behind him; it clattered and banged before rolling to a stop against a distant bulkhead.

"No idea, but whatever it is, it's been scannin' Reinette's brain," she answered, tossing her phone at the Doctor, and he caught it with one hand. "There's a scan of it on there." He accessed the information quickly. "It said she was incomplete."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It wouldn't answer me but it would answer Reinette. Another thing...apparently it was months for her. From between when I spoke to her an' when I appeared just now, that is."

"The temporal vortex must not be entirely stable," he theorised. "Not really a surprise considering how it's been done. Are you okay?"

"Huh?" She asked, having caught her breath. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I mean, I want to know what this thing is an' what it wants with an 18th century French girl, but I'm good."

"Let's have a look, shall we?" He asked, giving her back her phone. He reached up to the android and removed its face. He released a breath of awe that had Zoe rolling her eyes: honestly, give the man some impressive tech and he was all over it. "Oh, Zoe, look at this. This is amazing. Seriously, you don't see this a lot any more. It's space-age clockwork. For some reason it went out of fashion, but _Rassilon_ it's a work of art."

She cleared her throat to refocus him.

"Right, sorry," he said, remembering the situation and refocusing on the defrosting android. "As much as it would be a crime against excellent design to disassemble you, that won't stop me."

The android beamed away.

"Or you could just do that," the Doctor sighed, annoyed; she tried not to look too amused at the expression on his face. "Short range teleport. Can't have got far. Could still be on board."

"What is it though?"

"A service android," he said. "Most ships of this era have them. Not quite as beautiful as the one we just saw but the function remains the same."

"Can other service androids punch a hole in the space-time continuum?" She asked, shaking the contents of the fire extinguisher off her boot.

"Not that I know of."

"This short range teleport," she began. "D'you think they could teleport through the fireplace?"

"Unlikely, but maybe," he said. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"I need to check on Reinette," Zoe explained, hurrying to the fireplace and grabbing the lever but she didn't pull it. "She's just a little girl, Doctor, an' this thing is stalkin' her an' scanning her brain."

"Fine." He rolled his eyes. "Just be careful."

"I'll be back in five minutes." She pulled the lever and held on tightly as the fireplace rotated; she stepped out into Reinette's room that had changed in her absence. It was no longer a little girl's room but rather like a set of apartments. "Reinette? Hello? It's Zoe, from the fireplace, remember? I'm just checkin' to see that you're okay."

She reached out and let her fingers drift across the strings of a beautifully carved harp. She had never learned to play an instrument as money was always tight and space was at a premium in the flat. No room for a piano and no private place to practice with a smaller instrument either. She wondered if the Doctor knew how to play the piano and whether he would teach her if she asked him. She quite liked the idea of learning to play an instrument, and she plucked at the strings again, listening to the notes that filled the air. The sound of a throat being cleared from the doorway had her whipping around and snatching her hand away guiltily. A beautiful blonde woman in an ornate dress stood in the door watching her, and Zoe felt her cheeks burn: Reinette's mother, perhaps.

"Oh, hello. Hi. I was - er - just lookin' for Reinette," Zoe said, rambling in her surprise at being interrupted by someone other than Reinette. "This is still her room, right? I've been away but I'm not sure for how long."

The woman kept watching her as though unable to believe that she existed.

"Reinette!" A voice from the corridor called. "We're ready to go!"

"Go to the carriage, mother, I will join you there," the beautiful woman called over her shoulder and surprise washed through Zoe when she realised who stood in front of her. Reinette, no longer a child but rather a woman grown, moved deeper into the room, her eyes never leaving Zoe's face. "It is customary, I think, to have an imaginary friend only during one's childhood. You are to be congratulated on your persistence."

"Reinette?" She asked, her mind trying to wrap her head around how much time had passed for her in comparison to how much time had passed for Reinette: _time travel._ "My - um - well, blimey. Look at you. You're all grown up."

"And you do not appear to have aged a single day," Reinette replied, standing right in front of her, drinking her appearance in. It was an unusual sensation to be examined so closely. "That is tremendously impolite of you."

"Oh, well..." Zoe said, more than a little flustered. She felt herself blushing. "I've got good genetics." Reinette smiled a sunrise at her. "Listen – um – it's been lovely to catch up but I'd better get off. I just wanted to make sure you were okay an' – well – clearly you are. Besides...probably wouldn't want you mum finding you in here with a stranger, right?"

"Stranger?" Reinette laughed softly, eyes gentle but bright with delight at seeing her again after so many years of believing her to be a dream. "How could you be a stranger to me? I've known you since I was seven years old."

 _That_ was weird.

"Yeah, I s'pose you have."

"You seem to be flesh and blood," Reinette said and she reached out with a hand to gently touch Zoe's face, her fingers brushing over her skin and touching her hairline delicately, thumb and forefinger rubbing a short curl. "But this is absurd. Reason tells me you cannot be real."

"You never want to listen to reason," Zoe replied, gently removing her hand from her hair with the touch of her fingers against her wrist.

"Mademoiselle!" A servant called from the hallway. "Your mother grows impatient!"

"A moment!" Reinette called out her shoulder before looking at Zoe with soft, affectionate eyes, her hand still on her cheek. "So many questions but so little time."

She moved in without warning and kissed her.

It was the last thing that Zoe had expected to happen, and her arms flew out from her sides in surprise as Reinette's warm fingers cupped her face and her mouth covered her own. Her mind short-circuited at the touch of warm, soft lips and the gentle smell of perfume rising from her skin. Reinette pushed her up against the fireplace, and the mantelpiece dug into her spine as she was kissed. Reinette's hands were on her face and in her hair, her mouth slanting across hers and kissing her quite thoroughly, her tongue sliding into her mouth and tasting the banana pancakes she had had for breakfast. The sensation made Zoe's head spin, and it took a moment for her to get to grips with what was happening because people just didn't kiss her out of the blue like that; but, when she did, she began to kiss Reinette back. Her hands went to her waist, and she pulled her closer against her body, the large skirts hindering her efforts.

"Mademoiselle Poisson!" The servant called again, a little hint of impatience creeping into her voice.

Reinette pulled back, breathless and bright eyed with happiness. Her chest was heaving above her bodice, and the sight her her breasts distracted Zoe for a long moment; she felt as though she was on fire, and she enjoyed the burn of it across her skin. Reinette looked entirely too put together after such a kiss, and she threw Zoe a wide, pleased smile before she raced off, skipping down the steps and out of the bedroom. Zoe remained pressed against the fireplace, breathless, aroused, and more than a little punch drunk. She tried to understand what had just happened: ten minutes ago, Reinette was seven years old and now she was fully grown and kissing strange women against fireplaces.

She knew the adage that children grow up fast but she didn't think people meant _that_ fast.

Before the servant could enter the room and see her, Zoe pulled the lever and was taken back to the ship where the Doctor was waiting for her, a hint of impatience on his face. He didn't like to be kept waiting.

"Alright, no more wandering off through magic doors," he ordered. "You were gone for ages."

"What?" She asked, his voice sounded like it came through a wall of water towards her.

He narrowed his eyes at her and a spike of jealousy pierced him. "Have you – have you been kissing someone?"

"Reinette," she said, peeling her body off the fireplace and stepping down. The Doctor tried to ignore her red-kissed mouth but it was difficult. "She's all grown up now an' kissing women who live in fireplaces." She stared up at him. "I didn't expect that."

The Doctor couldn't think of anything to say in response to her; at least, not anything that wouldn't make him sound like the jealous old man he was. Instead, he looked away from her mouth. "I think I've found out why the android was scanning her brain."

"You have?" She asked, pleased. "Why? What's so important about her?"

"This ship is the SS Madam de Pompadour."

"The uncrowned queen of France," Zoe said, and a memory from a few months ago resurfaced from when she and Jackie had been in the Louvre and the painting that hung there, a glimpse of her future that -

Her heart skipped a beat.

 _Oh._

"And the woman that you've just been kissing," he said with a touch of sourness that he regretted when she just stared at him. She didn't hear him though. She was stuck on the thought that her future was coming to pass and she didn't know what was about to unfold: it was less exciting and more terrifying than it had seemed when she was standing in front of her portrait with her mum. "Madame de Pompadour was her official title. Those who knew her best called her Reinette, Reinette Poisson."

"I see," she said faintly.

The Doctor looked at her, suddenly noticing her change in mood: she had gone from dazed happiness to sombre thoughtfulness.

"What is it?" He asked her. "Your face just went weird."

"My face just went weird?" She repeated. "What does that even mean?"

"I said Madame de Pompadour and your face went strange," he said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Now you're lying to me," he said, taken aback and offended.

Zoe didn't lie to him.

"I am not," she frowned before huffing. "Shouldn't we be looking for the service droids? Find out why they're after Reinette?"

"Sure," he said. "If you tell me what's wrong first."

"I'll go this way then." She pointed at the exit and started walking for it. "You can stay here if you like."

The Doctor watched her leave, not pleased that ignoring him and lying to him was something that she apparently did now.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-One**

The ship was completely deserted. They looked in every nook and every cranny but could find no sign of the crew that must have once staffed it. According to the ship's manifest, the SS Madam de Pompadour was supposed to contain a crew of sixty-two individuals plus the service androids. There was neither hide nor hair of any of them around any corner or in any water closet. It was a mystery that was fascinating the Doctor and provided a good distraction from the thought of Zoe kissing the acclaimed uncrowned queen of France. He knew his jealousy was ridiculous and that he had no place to be jealous. It wasn't as though he had stated his intentions to her - it wasn't as though he _had_ intentions to state. It was just that snogging was a waste of time and he expected better of her.

 _That's it_ he thought unconvincingly to himself whilst he kept one eye on his erstwhile companion to make sure she didn't walk through any more fireplaces to snog any more historical figures _she's just wasting time_.

Along the way, they had picked up a white horse with a bridle and a saddle that had given them both pause. Zoe stared at him for one long moment before pulling herself from her strange and unusual state to make one comment.

"He's called Arthur."

"We're not keeping him!" He called after her retreating back, spluttering.

"We kept Jack!"

The screwdriver wasn't picking up anything that was out of place on the ship, and they soon realised they were walking in circles. Deciding that enough was enough, Zoe stood in the middle of the corridor with her hands on her hips and a pursed expression on her face. She tilted her head back to roll the tension from her neck. She went completely still, and the Doctor followed her eyeline. Above his head there was a camera. Not unusual to find surveillance cameras on a spaceship but what was unusual was the fact that there was an eyeball in the very centre of it.

It blinked, and a pained sound left Zoe's throat.

"Is that -?"

"An eyeball?" He finished for her. "Probably."

"Don't touch it!" She exclaimed when he moved towards it and raised his hand. She probably had a point. He scanned it instead. "You're goin' to tell me that's human, aren't you?"

A look of distaste passed across his face. "Unfortunately."

"There's a hatch..." Zoe said, coming up to his side as the camera pulled back into the bulkhead. She made no move to open it, fearful of what she might find. He opened it for them. Amongst the wires and pipes was a human heart. " _Jesus._ "

"I guess we know where the crew's gone," the Doctor said unhappily. The heart was wired into the system, and he gave it a scan whilst Zoe looked away and moved to pat Arthur, stroking down his flank. "It looks like the organs are being used to maintain the ship. They suffered some damage, and when they couldn't get it working again they wired their organs into the ship. Although - why? What a ridiculous solution to a - oh. I'm an idiot. The crew didn't do this, of course they didn't. Humans have a knack for survival, and this isn't surviving. The service androids did this. I bet that's what they mean by incom - Zoe?"

She was gone, and Arthur gave him an unimpressed look.

"One day," he sighed, annoyed. "I'm going to meet someone who gets the whole don't-wander-off thing."

Normally, Zoe was not so much hard work.

He set out in search of her, certain she couldn't have gone too far. If there was a doorway to 18th century France then she would have walked through it because of course she would. Her normal common sense seemed to have deserted her in the face of meeting Madam de Pompadour, and it was annoying him. She was acting strangely - and not-once-a-month period strange where she got a little emotional or, on unfortunate occasions, sharp. Ever since he told her that Reinette Poisson was Madam de Pompadour her mood had changed. There was definitely something that she wasn't telling him and he felt that it went beyond a quick snog with a historical figure. She wasn't the type to be thrown by that. Or maybe she was. It wasn't as though he had ever seen her flirt with anyone except for the occasional one with Jack that was more lightly teasing than anything else. He suspected she had met somewhere at the resort in France but she said hadn't said about that. Maybe a good snog _was_ enough to off-set her balance.

He approached a set of white wooden doors that looked as out of place as the ornate fireplace. He reached for the door but it opened before he could touch it. Bright sunlight flooded in through the crack, and Zoe slipped through the door quickly, shutting it behind her. She seemed a little startled to see him standing right there.

"Hi," she said. "I found another time window."

"Will you stop wandering off?" The Doctor asked sharply. "It's dangerous."

"Everything we do is dangerous," she said with a frown at his tone. "Why was there a human heart in the ship?"

"If you'd stayed, you'd know already," he said snidely, and her eyebrows climbed her forehead and her mouth twisted. He avoided her expression of disapproval by looking away. Unable to bear the silence, he told her.

"So when they said that she was incomplete –" Zoe began, horrified. "They meant what? She wasn't old enough?"

"This ship is thirty-seven years old," the Doctor said. "I imagine they'll want her to be thirty-seven before -"

"We can't let that happen," she said firmly, interrupting him before he thoughtlessly detailed what the androids would do to Reinette. "C'mon. They've got windows into her life all through the ship. We must be able to find the right one."

He offered his hand to her but she was upset at him for his tone and therefore ignored it; he tried not to feel hurt as he stuffed it into his pockets and sulked along behind her like the overgrown child he apparently was. In hindsight, their side trip was a bad idea. They had had such a good time at the literary festival and on Planet One and Tanagra, and now he had gone and ruined it by demanding more alone time with her. He always did know how to ruin a good thing.

Zoe stopped in front of a large window that gave them a glimpse into Reinette's life. He stopped next to her and watched as an elaborately dressed man entered the room with two men flanking him.

"Is that -?" She began before stopping.

"Louis XV," the Doctor said. "The King of France."

Reinette entered the room, and Zoe seemed to stop breathing at the sight of her, her gaze intense. She curtseyed to the King who greeted her with a small smile, his eyes roving over her beautiful adorned body. The Doctor took his eyes from Zoe and focused them on the King and Reinette.

"I think this is the night they met," he said to fill the silence. "The night of the Yew Tree ball. In no time flat, she'll get herself established as his official mistress with her own rooms at the palace. Even her own title: Madame de Pompadour."

"France." Zoe shook her head but she didn't take her eyes off of Reinette who stood directly in front of them, checking her appearance after the King's departure. It had evidently been a brief meeting.

"It's a different planet," he agreed, hoping to coax a smile from her but failing.

"What's that?" Zoe asked suddenly, voice the same sharpness it got when she was focused. She pointed at something hidden in the shadows behind Reinette at the exact moment that the woman herself turned and startled.

There was a woman with her back to the room standing in the corner, perfectly still and horrendously ominous. Reinette stared at her. "How long have you been standing there? Show yourself!"

"Shit," Zoe cursed, and she snatched the screwdriver out of the Doctor's pocket. He let out a surprised _oi_ as she fiddled with the settings before she placed her hands flat against the surface and pushed, hoping it would work. It did, and the mirror swung open, shifting the entire wall. She pushed through and fell into the room. Reinette stared at her, mouth open. "Hello, Reinette. I hope it hasn't been too long."

"Zoe!" She exclaimed, surprised by her appearance and the Doctor's ungraceful entrance as he tumbled in after her so that they weren't separated from each other again.

Zoe pointed the screwdriver at the android and altered its internal temperature, using the same setting the Doctor told her to use to cool her pink lemonade down on Planet One. Its temperature dropped to below zero and the android started to freeze, its motions jerking and slowing. She had one brief moment of triumph where she felt a flash of pride at successfully Doctoring the situation when the android started to drip water, condensation pricking at the glass surface of its body.

"What's it doin'?"

"Switching back on," the Doctor said. "Melting the ice."

"And then what?" Reinette asked, coming to Zoe's side and taking her elbow in worry.

"Then it kills everyone in the room. Focuses the mind, doesn't it? Hello, by the way, I'm the Doctor, a friend of Zoe's. Lovely to meet you." The Doctor asked before narrowing his attention onto the android. Reinette just looked baffled. "Who are you? Identify yourself."

The android remained silent. Zoe turned to Reinette. "Order it to answer him."

"Why should it listen to me?" She asked in bewilderment.

"it answered you when you were a child. It'll answer you now."

Trusting her imaginary friend, Reinette addressed the android. "Answer this man's question. Answer any and all questions put to you."

"I am repair android seven," the android said.

"What happened to the ship, then?" The Doctor asked. "There was a lot of damage."

"Ion storm. Eighty two percent systems failure."

"That ship hasn't moved in over a year," he pointed out. "What's taken you so long?"

"We did not have the parts."

"You mean the crew," Zoe said with a hint of anger in her voice. "You're talkin' about the crew of the ship."

"It was just doing what it was programmed to. Repairing the ship any way it can, with whatever it could find," the Doctor said. "No one told it the crew weren't on the menu."

"That doesn't make it right," she said, stomach churning at the memory of the smell she had wrongly identified when she got off the TARDIS: _roast beef._ As if sensing her distress, Reinette took her hand, holding it between both of hers.

"No, it doesn't," the Doctor agreed. "But what are you doing here? You've opened up time windows. That takes colossal energy. Why come here? You could've gone to your repair yard. Instead you come to eighteenth century France? Why?"

"One more part is required."

"You are not touchin' her," Zoe said, voice low and threatening. It was a tone the Doctor had never heard before. "Go to a repair yard. We'll help you get your ship there, but you're to leave this time an' leave Reinette in peace."

"One more part is required."

"Perhaps I can give it what it needs," Reinette suggested uncertainly but diplomatically. "I have resources that I can access: money, connections..."

"It wants your head, Reinette," The Doctor said with all the tact of a blundering, drunk giraffe.

"What?" Reinette breathed, pale. "Why?"

"We are the same," the android said.

"We are not the same," she said furiously. "We are in no way the same."

"We are the same."

"No!" She exclaimed, tormented. "Go away! Just go away from me!"

"No!" The Doctor cried but it was too late, the android teleported away. "It's back on the ship. Zoe, come on!"

The Doctor sprinted away, and Zoe moved to follow him but Reinette stopped her. "No, please! You walk through my life like a dream. Can you not stay? Just for a time?"

Zoe looked at where the Doctor had disappeared. He had left the room at a run and with the experienced expectation that she would be right behind him. She knew she should be but something stayed her feet to the ground, and it wasn't Reinette's baleful whisper. It was the memory of standing in front of a painting of herself, tracing the lines of her features on a canvas painted by a hand centuries dead. At the time, it had been a tantalising peak into the future, a promise of adventures yet to be had. She knew nothing of Daleks, or paradoxes, or Time Lords and their Time War, or of Tolandra, or rogue Time Agents. The woman on the canvas was a stranger to her then, and it was her own curiosity that kept her in place now.

She would deal with the Doctor's anger later. He would surely have words for her - Lord knew he did every time Rose or Jack wandered off in the middle of a situation, but she would live with that. Just as she lived with his anger born of fear after Thanatos. Ever since Tolandra, he kept her close. _Too_ close. Sometimes she felt that was suffocating under the weight of his concern and care. Sometimes she ached for more of it in a way that she didn't understand. She thought of her future self – the one she had met in 1941 – and her words: _close the circle_. That was what her future self had said; she needed to close the circle.

The Doctor was capable of dealing with the androids by himself. He didn't really need her except to be present so he could demonstrate his intelligence to a suitable audience.

He did like an audience.

"For a little while," Zoe decided, and Reinette bloomed with happiness. "But I'll need to leave eventually. The Doctor...he gets into trouble without someone 'round to look out for him."

"This Doctor..." Reinette began. "Is he your lover?"

"God, no!" She exclaimed, flushing bright red. "No, absolutely not. No, he's a mate. A good mate. No. I don't even - _no._ "

Reinette looked both amused and relieved by her answer. "Then we shall dance."

"I can't actually dance," Zoe admitted. "At least not the dancin' you can do. I do a mean conga, an' a little bit of this -"

She wriggled her hips and shook the top half of her body. Reinette laughed in delight. Zoe dropped her hands, a little embarrassed. "Perhaps I shall teach you then and you can teach me your... _dancing_."

"Probably best not to introduce that to French society," she said, hand on the back of her neck. "Wouldn't want to mess up the timelines."

"Timelines?"

"Ah - long story," Zoe said, not entirely sure how she would explain time travel to Reinette. She had accepted Zoe emerging from the fireplace fairly easily but she had also been seven years old at the time. "You said somethin' about a dance?"

"The Yew Tree Ball," Reinette said. "It is a beautiful ball. You may enjoy it."

"You should go," she replied. "You're supposed to dance with the King tonight an' make him fall madly in love with you. You wouldn't want to miss that."

"And dance with him I shall," Reinette replied, taking her hand in hers and leading her step by step out of the room with the mirror. "But first I shall make him jealous by dancing with you."

"Won't it be strange for two women to be seen dancin' together?" Zoe asked nervously, stepping into a brightly lit corridor with the faint sound of music brushing through it. "An' - er - I'm not really dressed for a ball."

Reinette's lovely laugh filled the air, her eyes sparkling with humour and something else Zoe couldn't name. "My darling, for this type of dancing, you will not need clothes."

"That doesn't make - oh."

Zoe let Reinette tug her into an empty bedroom, the door gently shutting behind them.

* * *

It wasn't the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him. That honour belonged to a rather awkward misunderstanding with some locals on Yura VI and an inebriated Scotsman who _was_ authentic beneath his kilt. He and Jamie swore never to talk about that night again, and he still burned with embarrassment when the memory sneaked in when he was least expecting it. At least this time he wasn't drunk, naked, and without his dignity. He was merely a little foggy headed and strapped to a slanted table.

The TARDIS was mere feet away bearing witness to his embarrassment.

After centuries of travelling with her, he could feel the judgement rolling off of her. It was his own fault - or rather Zoe's. It was definitely Zoe's fault, he decided. There he was racing through the ship to catch up with the android when he realised that she wasn't behind him. He turned to find out where she was, wondering if she had fallen behind, and he turned directly into the needle of one of the androids. He dropped like a sack of Gallifreyan hithcafs but with significantly less bounce. He had only been unconscious for forty-three minutes; long enough for him to be concerned that Zoe was nowhere in sight but not long enough to be unduly concerned.

His body sweated the drug out of his system at the same time that exasperation filled him. He knew Zoe was young and that seventeen for humans was like a bomb of hormones exploding within their fleshy bodies but he had hoped she would have her priorities straight. Even Jack knew not to run off with an attractive prospect - at least most of the time he did – when danger was afoot.

"You are compatible," the android nearest to him said.

He didn't know if it was his old friend seven, but whichever one it was it had gained a lot of friends whilst he was unconscious.

"Probably," the Doctor said with a fake note of cheer in his voice, straining against the restraints. "But it'd be a waste. My friend told you we'd help fix the ship. If you take my brain, I won't be able to do that - and she's next to useless at the moment with all the flirting she's doing."

The android extended his sharp blade that had a little cogged wheel spinning at the end, which he thought was a nice touch as he leaned away from it, pressing his body flatter against the table. If he could just reach his screwdriver...except, _no_.

Zoe still had it.

 _Dammit_.

"Then again," he continued as he tried to stall for time whilst thinking of a way out of his predicament. "Maybe you want to rethink this whole thing. I mean, at some point you're going to hit a point of diminishing returns. All those squishy organic parts will -"

There was a crash and bang as something clattered to the floor behind the TARDIS. A familiar voice cursed loudly and emphatically. His hearts sank.

"Those organic parts will -" he tried again but to no avail as Zoe appeared around the corner looking thoroughly dishevelled.

Her hair was sticking up all over the place, and her cheeks had a red flush to them. He looked away from her mouth that had recently been kissed, long and hard by the looks of it, and he counted down from ten in Jitanian.

"I'm so sorry," Zoe apologised, flashing the androids a grin that was the right side of charming. "I made a bit of a mess back there. I got tangled up in the wires an' I knocked somethin' over. Not sure what it was. Smelt horrible though, so figured it was probably important." She looked contrite even as her eyes flashed with humour. "Sorry."

Her eyes fell on him and took in the sight of him trussed up on the table like Christmas dinner. Her eyebrows twitched, and the corners of her mouth turned up. If she started laughing at him when it was _her fault_ , he was going to leave her behind on the closest human-friendly planet and forget all about her.

"Sorry, I'm late," she said to him. "Reinette invited me to the party. Seemed rude to say no. I met the king. He's a nice man. I even did some dancin'." She wriggled her hips, and he let his head drop back in exasperation. "Hey, I have a quick question. Is it bad if I might have accidentally invented the conga?"

"Zoe Tyler –" he started, trying to quell the frustration he felt at her. "I've been worried sick about you."

She stared at him. "Y'know, you sounded just like my mother then."

The Doctor's mouth dropped open. No one had ever said anything as offensive to him before in his very long life.

"Where've you been?" He demanded, thoroughly ignoring the androids that were, in a display of unexpected politeness, letting them talk. "What've you been doing? Never mind, I can guess what you've been doing...or rather who."

"Oi!" Her face twisted. "What are you implyin'?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, a burning sensation inside of him that he tried to ignore. "It's just your jumper is on inside out...and back to front."

She looked down at her grey jumper and swore, colour rushing through her skin. She peeled the jumper off and got it trapped over her head. She yelped and twisted, trying to free herself, and he looked away. She didn't have a T-shirt on underneath it, but he was grateful she had chosen to wear a bra. The last thing he needed was something to fuel the fire, and he had a very good memory. She struggled valiantly before it was on the right way around and the correct way in. She spread her arms wide, and he rolled his eyes at her, irritated and charmed at the same time.

"Y'know," she said conversationally, using the reflective surface of a computer panel to smooth down her hair. "When I was havin' a turn about the floor with Louis - great dancer, by the way - it hit me...the reason why they have to wait until Reinette is thirty-seven like the ship? She'll be compatible then. They've been usin' hearts an' eyes an' who-knows-what else...but what would they use a brain for?"

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Penny in the air," Zoe grinned. "They need a command circuit. You said it yourself. The computer system is royally screwed. The ion storm buggered it right up, so the ship needs a brain an' because they're a bunch of idiots, they think the brain of the woman the ship's named after is the only brain that'll do."

"Oh, Zoe Tyler, you are fantastic!" The Doctor grinned at her, forgetting his irritation with her in the face of her problem-solving abilities.

The android holding the blade decided that it had allowed them to talk long enough. "The brain is compatible."

"His brain?" Zoe asked, pointing at the Doctor. "Well, probably, but you don't want it though. What I think you want is this."

She stepped forward and, with a hand that betrayed her fear with a fine tremble, quickly removed the android's mask. She palmed the sonic screwdriver out of her back pocket and pressed it against the base of the android's neck. An electric change ran through it and the clockwork innards seized up. Its upper body dropped as though she had flicked an off-switch. She turned on her heel and pointed the screwdriver at the console, covering her eyes with one hand as something sparked; the rest of the androids dropped in a similar fashion. The Doctor stared at her. She spread her fingers and peeked through them, shoulders relaxing when she saw the androids were still and unthreatening.

"Right," she said, dropping her hand and throwing him a smile that made her look young and fragile. Her hands shook as she sonicked his restraints off, but she was doing her best to be brave. "What are you doin' lyin' about? We've got work to do."

"You're a fine one to talk," the Doctor said, leaping off the table. "I was about to be ceviche while you were busy shagging Madam de Pompadour."

The colour in her face exploded. "I beg your pardon?"

He admired the British for being able to take that perfectly innocuous phrase of politeness and, with a slight change of tone, make it mean _what the fuck did you just say_?

"You look debauched," the Doctor accused. She looked furious, and a heartbeat away from enacting violence upon his person.

"So you can have a shag with Cleopatra but god-forbid anyone else gets in on the action?" She hissed at him, and it was his turn to colour.

"I did not!"

"You just happened to come back to the TARDIS sans trousers?" She asked him, and the colour spread from his ears to his cheeks.

"That was not what happened!" The Doctor protested. "I - humans - no!"

She looked incandescent with anger. He stood uncertainly before her, not sure why they were arguing but almost positive that it was his fault. She scowled up at him, a small bruise on her shoulder peaking out from her collar, teasing him with its existence. "Are we going to stand around all day discussin' our sex lives or are we actually going to do something about these fuckin' robot things?"

"Androids," he corrected automatically, immediately wishing he was capable of keeping his mouth shut for five seconds.

"I swear on the TARDIS -" she threatened him, and he plucked the screwdriver from her hand and moved towards the console.

"Okay, fine. All the time windows are controlled from here," the Doctor said at the console. "I need to close them all down. Zeus plugs. Where are my Zeus plugs?"

"Here." Zoe tossed him his dropped box of Zeus plugs from where they lay on the floor. The plugs glanced off his shoulder, but he caught them anyway. "Why didn't they just open a time window to when she was thirty seven?"

"With the amount of damage to these circuits, they did well to hit the right century." He explained. "Trial and error after that. The windows aren't closing. Why won't they close?"

"Are you doin' it right?"

"Yes, I'm doing it right.

"Don't hit the buttons, press them gently."

"I _am_ pressing them gently."

A bell rang behind them, interrupting their argument.

Zoe looked around. "What's that?"

"No idea," the Doctor frowned. "Incoming message?"

"Incomin' from where?"

"A report from the field. One of them must still be out there with Reinette," the Doctor said in concern. "That's why I can't close the windows. There's an override."

Behind them, the android that Zoe had electrocuted reactivated abruptly. It went through the process of switching itself on again, its clockwork innards faltering into a smooth operation.

"Well, that's clever," the Doctor said, an arm across Zoe's torso to keep her behind him and in relative safety. "Right. Not going to lie, Zo, but there are many things about this are not good." Her hand curled around his forearm, and she stared out around his shoulder. "Message from one of your little friends? Anything interesting?"

"She is complete. It begins," the android said before all of the service droids teleported out in a flash of light so bright it caused spots of colour to prick across Zoe's vision.

"That's extremely not good," Zoe said, wincing. She rubbed her eyes to try to reclaim her sight. "What's happenin'?"

"One of them must have found the right time window. Now it's time to send in the troops," the Doctor said, turning back to the console to try and find the information he needed. "And this time they're bringing back her head."

"That's not goin' to happen," she said with a sliver of ice in her words that made the Doctor's fingers pause over the keyboard. Only for a moment though as time was of the essence. "I'm not goin' to let that happen. What do we do?"

"Go and warn Reinette," the Doctor said, not looking at her in an attempt to force his focus onto the matter at hand. "Tell her that they're coming and that she'll need to be ready. Come back as soon as you can." She nodded, giving his shoulder a squeeze. He called out after her before he thought about stopping himself. "And _don't_ stop for a quickie."


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-Two**

Zoe strode through the ship with anger burning through her as the Doctor's words played on repeat in her head. Her skin was flushed, and she wanted to turn on her heel and have the argument that was brewing between them with him but time was of the essence and Reinette's fate weighed heavily on her shoulders. It was deeply unfair though. He never seemed to care whenever Jack took off and had liaisons with the locals, and he just rolled his eyes when Rose flirted up a storm; yet, _she_ was the one who got the snide comments and the lack of eye contact. It was a double standard that she didn't appreciate, and as soon as the situation was taken care of, she was going to let him know exactly where he could shove his Victorian sensibilities in regards to her.

She moved swiftly through the deserted ship as she searched for the best time window in which to enter Reinette's life once more. She needed one as close to Reinette's 37th year as possible, and the only one she could find was five years out. Reinette was thirty-two years old and seated in front of a large and elegant piano, its red wood burnished so thoroughly that it reflected the room around it. She was lightly playing a joyful piece of music on the ivory keys, her back perfectly straight, a trail of golden curls falling down across the curve of her neck and resting on one pale shoulder. Zoe reached out and pushed the tapestry aside, stepping into the room.

"Reinette," she said, and the woman looked up, startled at being interrupted, before surprise and delight burst across her delicate features at the sight of her mysterious friend.

"Zoe," Reinette said, breathless with delight. She rushed towards her in a flurry of movement with her elaborate dress shifting like autumn leaves around her. Zoe caught her in her arms, and Reinette pressed her mouth to hers, kissing her, laughing happily as her hands touched her face reverently. "You came back."

"I did, but I don't have a lot of time," Zoe said, peeling away from her and holding her at arms length so she could talk without the distraction that Reinette's affection provided. "I need you to listen to me carefully because this is important. Those androids – the clockwork ones from before – they're comin' back for you. They'll be here in five years, an' you need to be ready."

"Five years?" Reinette asked, a small frown creased the space between her eyes.

"Some time after your 37th birthday," she said before sighing and taking her hands, squeezing her fingers gently. "I'm sorry that I can't give you an exact date. It's all a bit random but they are comin'. It's goin' to happen no matter what."

"Can't you stop it?" Reinette asked hopefully. "You stopped them before when I was a child."

"I didn't, not really," Zoe said with a shake of her head. "I only slowed them down. This thing, this situation, in a way – for me – it's already happenin', an' I can't stop it from happenin'. Not yet at least; although, my friend is working on it. I really am sorry, Reinette. It's hard to explain an' harder still to believe. The Doctor actually does this better, which, if you knew him, you'd find hard _that_ to believe."

"Then be exact, and I will be attentive," Reinette said simply but firmly.

"I'm sorry, but there isn't time," Zoe apologised as the need to return to the Doctor and help pressed against her.

"There are five years!"

"For you," Zoe said with a hint of sharpness coating the edges of her voice. "For me? I don't have five minutes."

"Then also be concise," Reinette said, stepping into her, their fingers tangled between them in the folds of Reinette's dress. "My darling, I need answers. Surely you can understand that."

Zoe could and so, despite the urgent need to return through the tapestry, she drew her over to the piano where they sat down on the bench, their knees touching and hands still twined together.

"This is difficult but I'm goin' to try, so be patient," Zoe said, unusually serious.

"For you? Always."

"When you were a girl, you asked me where I came from. D'you remember?" Zoe said, and Reinette nodded for she doubted she would ever be able to forget the night her imaginary friend stepped through her fireplace and into her life properly. "I _am_ from London, that was never a lie, but I'm also from the stars. I travel through them with my friend, but I also travel through time: past an' future. I was born in the year 1989 in London."

"Dear God," Reinette breathed, staring at her as though she was an impossible thing. "You are from over _two hundred_ years in the future?"

"Yes," Zoe nodded, distantly wondering if this was how the Doctor felt when he told people the truth about himself. "We're on a ship: a ship that travels through the stars. An' it's full of you, I s'pose. I mean, not you you but your life. It's strange. There are – there are different bits of your life in all these different rooms, an' they're all jumbled up like a – like a – er – like a jigsaw puzzle that's waitin' to be put back together. I know it's complicated. I'm sorry. I don't know how else to explain it."

"There is a vessel in your world where the days of my life are pressed together like the chapters of a book so that you may step from one to the other without increase of age while I, weary traveller, must always take the slower path," Reinette said concisely and with great resignation.

Zoe stared at her with a small, impressed smile playing upon her lips. "You're brilliant. Really, you are."

Reinette leaned into her, silently begging for her touch. Zoe consented, raising her hand to her cheek and brushing a lock of blonde hair back.

"So, in five years these creatures will return," Reinette said once the initial shock of the truth had worn off. "What can be done?"

"Keep them talkin'," Zoe instructed, dropping her hand from her cheek and curling it against her own thigh. "They're kind of programmed to respond to you because of the ship."

"Why because of the ship?"

"Oh – um – it's called the SS Madam de Pompadour," she explained, and a single eyebrow rose elegantly. "Yeah, I know, but they think that because the ship is thirty-seven years old then they need you to be thirty-seven before they..."

"Take my head?"

"Yeah," she sighed before drawing them back to the matter at hand. "Listen, you won't be able to stop them but you might be able to delay them for a bit."

"Until?"

"Until I can get there."

"You're coming then?" Reinette asked, hope and anticipation making her heart leap in her chest.

"I promise," she said, unsure of how she was going to keep her promise. "I'll be there when you need me."

"You cannot walk the slow path with me?" Reinette asked, and the brush of hope and want in her voice made Zoe's heart hurt.

"I can't, I'm sorry," she apologised. "My friend really does need my help."

"It's the way it's always been," Reinette accepted heavily. "The monsters and you. It seems I cannot have one without the other."

"This was never meant to happen, Reinette, I'm sorry," Zoe said honestly, and she was certain her head was going to ache when she had a chance to really sit down and think about the fact that time was running differently for both of them. "Those androids...they're messin' with history. None of this was ever supposed to happen to you."

"Supposed to happen? What does that mean?" She cried, and she grasped tighter at Zoe's hand, trying to imprint herself on her skin in order to leave as much of a mark on her as Zoe had unwittingly left on her own life. "It happened, my darling, and I would not have it any other way. One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel."

Reinette leaned forwards to rest her forehead against her woman from the stars. After a moment's hesitation, Zoe put her arms around her, holding her close against her body as the sweet wine scent of Reinette's breath brushed over her lips. Her mind was a confusing wash of emotions: a little over three hours ago she had crouched in front of a fireplace and spoken to a seven-year-old girl who was now a grown woman and clearly in love with her. She knew time travel was strange and wonderful, listening to Jack's stories had taught her that more than the Doctor's deceptively careful use of the science had, but experiencing it first hand was something completely different. She rubbed a comforting hand reassuringly over Reinette's back; they breathed each other in, their hearts beating in unison.

"Zoe! The time window!" The Doctor's voice carried in an echo down the ship and into the drawing room, travelling through time and space to reach them. "It's right under our noses! Hurry!"

"Reinette, I have to go," Zoe whispered into the space between them, untangling her arms from around her to rise to her feet; Reinette didn't let her go easily. "I'll see you again, I promise. In five years."

"No," Reinette said, clutching at her hand and standing with her. "Before you go, I wish to see your world."

Impatience licked the inside of her chest. "I really don't have time for this."

However Reinette was determined and a force of nature who had made a king fall in love with her through the strength of her personality, intellect, and charms. Zoe didn't really stand a chance; so, against her better judgement, she led Madam de Pompadour through the woven tapestry and into the dark, shadowed corridor of the spaceship that bore her name. Reinette looked around, her expression inscrutable but her grip on Zoe's hand tight and crushing, her rings digging into Zoe's skin and knuckles. It was vastly different to the world of careful order and richness that she had temporarily left behind as there were no pleasing aesthetics and there was a lingering smell of cooked flesh in the air.

It was a grey and terrifying world filled with horrors and beauty that couldn't be imagined, only experienced, and it was one that Reinette didn't understand in the least. Long had she dreamed of where Zoe disappeared to after each visit but she hadn't even come close to imagining the truth of the matter.

"So this is your world," Reinette said quietly, a little afraid. "It is not what I expected."

"Nothin' ever is," Zoe said just before screams echoed down the corridor from the time window that the Doctor had unearthed. Reinette's head snapped around in that direction, her hair lifting from her shoulder and cutting through the air like a whip, alarmed.

"What is that?" She breathed, her heart hammering in her chest, and the swell of her breasts rose over the line of her dress.

"The future," Zoe answered with a slight grimace. "Your future. I'm sorry, I know it's frightenin'."

 _"Are you there? Can you hear me?_ " Reinette's voice sounded from five years in the future, and it slipped through the ship to startle her past self. _"I need you now. You promised. The clock on the mantel is broken. It is time."_

"That's my voice," Reinette whispered, fascinated and horrified all at once, her grip threatening to cut off the blood supply to Zoe's hand; she allowed it as she remembered how frightened she had been when the Doctor had introduced her to his world.

"I know, I know. Reinette, please, I have to go," Zoe said urgently, working her fingers free and flexing them, blood draining back into her extremities. "You need me. Not five years from now, but now. _Right now_. I need to go an' help you. I need to keep my promise."

"I - I understand," she said, voice trembling with emotion and regret, her fingers fluttering about her neck anxiously. "I must take the slow path."

"Are you okay?" Zoe asked kindly even though the Doctor was yelling for her with growing impatience and she was beginning to inch away.

"No, I'm very afraid," she confessed bravely. Her pale blue eyes shone with tears, and a trembling smile appeared on her painted mouth. "But you are worth the monsters, my darling."

She stepped forward into Zoe's personal space. Her mouth was on hers again, kissing her with a fierce desperation that bled through into harsh lips and sharp nips of teeth, stealing the breath from their lungs. Zoe's hands rested on her waist, flexing in response to the kiss, before she carefully pushed her away and gave her a gentle nudge back to the tapestry as she tried to catch her breath: she wasn't used to being kissed so abruptly. Reinette hesitated for a moment, her steps faltering, and her eyes held Zoe's before she ducked back through the time window and disappeared with tears on her pale cheeks and tracks through her make up as she left to walk the slow path alone.

Zoe lingered for only a moment longer, her chest aching with confusion and emotions that she had never felt before. She felt out of her depth, as adrift as she had been she had stepped into the TARDIS for the first time and realised that aliens were truly real, but there was nothing to anchor her this time. There was no comfort provided by the warmth of the TARDIS or the Doctor's stream of babble to soften the fear and confusion this time. She felt alone and scared, the future an uncertain thing. She drew her hand across her mouth, wiping the remnants of Reinette's lipstick away, smearing it across the back of her hand. She turned quickly on her heels and sprinted in the direction of the screams because helping was something she was able to do.

She ran the length of the ship and skidded around the corner to find that a mess had been created in her absence. The Doctor ran wires out of the TARDIS and across the floor, one console completely dismantled for reasons that Zoe didn't understand, and the Time Lord himself was seated at a control panel that had been MacGyvered into processing information faster than it was built to do: sparks occasionally flew off from the sides and the top in an alarming manner. He barely glanced up when she entered, only looking up long enough to throw her an exasperated expression at her tardiness. She didn't notice as her attention was taken by the time window where she watched, aghast, at the scene that was being played out in the front of them.

Reinette's five years had passed in the time it took her to run from one time window to the next.

Reinette Poisson was standing face to face with one of the clockwork androids, chin raised in defiance and bravery pouring from her as she controlled the crowd of scared aristocrats, displaying for them how one should behave when threatened by robots from the future.

"She'll delay them for as long as she can," Zoe said, moving to stand just behind him. She placed her hand on his leather clad shoulder, using the solidity of his body to ground her and focus her mind. "Are we ready?"

"No, they knew I was coming," the Doctor said with sharp irritation that came from panic as he tried everything in his not inconsiderable power in an attempt to break through the hurdles that were standing in his way. "They blocked it off."

"Well, unblock it."

"I'm trying!"

"Why aren't we just usin' the TARDIS?" Zoe asked, gesturing wildly at blue box that sat innocuously to one side. "We can be there yesterday an' just wait for the androids to turn up instead of _this._ "

"If we try to use the TARDIS to travel to a point in time where there's an unstable time window then explosive things will happen," the Doctor explained quickly. "And we'll have bigger problems on our hands than androids wanting to take Madam de Pompadour's head."

 _Fair enough_ she thought, her mind racing for a solution. "Then how do we break the glass?"

"Hyperplex this side, plate glass the other," he said, tossing her the screwdriver so she could help speed up the processing power of the computer system in order to buy them a few extra minutes. "We'd need a truck."

"Surely Ace left some explosives in the TARDIS," Zoe argued, sonic screwdriver held against the side of his work station, thumb depressing the button and the light at the end glowed a bright TARDIS blue. "Or you can bloody make a bomb with what we have in the kitchen! Didn't you once say that bomb makin' is just a chemical reaction gone wrong in controlled situations?"

"Even if we had the time for me to create a bomb with enough explosive force to shatter the hyperplex, the time window would break with it," he snapped. "There'd be no way back."

"If there's no time window then surely the TARDIS could land in the right time period," she reasoned, hitting the computer with her free fist in the age old manner of trying to get it to work quicker and better; the computer just beeped at her, and she hit it again, _harder_.

"It could land near the time period but not exactly when we'd need it to," he said, his frown threatening to become a permanent fixture on his already grumpy face as he was doing it so fiercely and deeply. "We'd be too late. Reinette would already be dead."

"An' what would the damage to history be if Madam de Pompadour loses her head to clockwork androids before her time?" She asked. He spun in his chair to face her, anger and hopelessness on his face. He wasn't used to losing.

"What do you want me to do, Zoe?" He demanded, spreading his large hands wide and looking up at her. "Please, tell me. What is it?"

She stared at him, breathing heavily, and her eyes burned with determination even as her mind whirred with how everything could go wrong. A thousand different scenarios ran through her head so quickly that she felt dizzy with it but she couldn't find another solution other than one that would shatter the window. It would be a sacrifice but that was what the Doctor had taught her. Sometimes, someone needed to lay down on the live wire and take the hit for the greater good. He had done that with The Moment back on Gallifrey, and she had done it before, on a smaller scale, on Thanatos when she had jumped into the raging river to save Okana with no thought for her own safety.

Someone needed to make the sacrificial play here, and it couldn't be the Doctor.

"Break the window," Zoe told him, and she didn't recognise her voice; it was strong and decisive, a tone she had never used before.

"I already told you –"

"Break the window," she repeated, dropping the screwdriver from the side of the computer. She towered over him when she shifted so that she stood before him: inadvertent but effective; he had to look up at her in order to maintain eye contact. "Give me a way through, an' I'll stop the androids. Then you can just come an' pick me up."

"Zoe, no," he rejected, shaking his head, frown falling from his face to be replaced by a concerned expression. "You have no idea how long you'd be stuck in the past. It might be a week, it might be a decade. I can't guarantee how much time will pass for you. You might lose years!"

"We can't just stand here an' watch as she is murdered!" Zoe shouted, and it was the first time she had raised her voice to him; even after Thanatos she hadn't yelled. It startled them both as neither of them were prone to shouting at each other when angry. She deliberately softened her voice when she spoke again. "I trust you. I've trusted you from the moment I stood in Downin' Street an' you told me the only way to save the world was to blow the buildin' up. I trusted you then, an' I've trusted you every day since. I _know_ that you'll come an' get me. I know you won't keep me waitin' longer than I have to. But this has to be done. You know it an' I know it. Reinette can't die here today because what'll happen if she does? A paradox like what happened with Pete Tyler? Or somethin' worse?"

The Doctor stared up at her. The people he travelled with over the years were always so brave that they broke his hearts in the end with their courage.

"This isn't your responsibility, it's mine," he told her, taking her hands and pulling her closer so that her legs bumped against his knees. "I'll go. However long it takes, the time means nothing to me. It won't even a drop in the ocean."

She laughed but it sounded hollow, and she gripped his hands tighter, as though drawing strength from him.

"An' how am I suppose to get the TARDIS to you, Doctor?" She asked, emotions turning her voice thick and vulnerable. "I don't know how to fly her."

"Zoe -"

"Doctor..." she freed one hand from his and reached out to rest her palm against his cheek that was slightly rough from his afternoon stubble. She held his eyes and gave him a small, sad smile as she drank him in, memorising the face that had become so dear to her in just a few short months. "Break the window."

* * *

 _Thee Hours Later_

The stars shone brightly in the night's sky that covered the Palace of Versailles. Zoe was able to make out Sirius, Canopus, Rigel Kentaurus, Arcturus, Vega, and so many more that she didn't yet know the names of. The Doctor had taken her to many but the universe was teeming with life that she still hadn't seen and places she hadn't yet visited. As she stood at the large window, the curtains drawn to one side for her, she wondered if she would get the chance to go back out amongst them. She believed in her marrow that the Doctor would come from her: that wasn't the question. It was simply a fact that was solid and unbreakable. The question was just a matter of _when._ Would it be weeks, months, or even years before he and the TARDIS came back into her life with that beautiful wheezing sound the TARDIS made? She knew that she was going to spend her future days looking up into the sky as she waited for them to come for her.

A heavy sigh rushed from her mouth. She crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a little chilled despite the fire that roared in the room. The decision had been the right one to make. She _knew_ that. Even the Doctor hadn't been able argue in the end as the clock threatened to run out. He had tried his best though before giving in under the strength of her determination and the danger that Reinette was in. The upside of the whole situation was that the androids were now dealt with. Once the time window was broken under the sonic reverberations of the screwdriver amplified by power from the TARDIS, they had just shut down as there was no way back and they no longer needed to fix the ship. She had asked – or rather forcefully instructed – King Louis, who seemed equal parts fascinated and terrified by her, to ensure that they were dismantled and their pieces scattered around France as there was no sense in having clockwork androids from the 51st century hiding in the attics of the Palace of Versailles.

She wasn't entirely sure what to do next. The adrenaline of the day had faded from her system, and she just felt tired and lost. There was already a feeling of homesickness slicking her insides. The click-clack of heels against marble reached her ears, distracting her from her tumultuous mind and the life she had left behind. Reflected in the window, Zoe saw Reinette pause in the doorway as though uncertain of whether or not to actually enter. She watched her and tracked her progress across the room – a receiving room by all accounts, not that Zoe knew what a receiving room actually was – before Reinette came to stand just next to her.

"Here, my darling," she said, and Zoe looked around.

Reinette offered her a glass of rich red wine. _France_ she thought to herself with faint amusement as she took it with a murmured _merci_. Cut off as she was from the TARDIS, she no longer had access to the translation matrix that was normally at home in a quiet corner of her mind. Very quickly, she had discovered that 18th century French was no longer being translated for her. Whilst the Doctor was right about the fact that it was different than the French she had learnt at school and spoken in Paris only months before, it wasn't so different that she couldn't communicate and understand those around her. No one seemed to notice or care that her French was slightly stilted. Then again, her strange French was possibly the least strange thing about her. Her hair, her skin colour, her clothes – all of them marked her out as someone out of place and out of time.

Still, at least she had access to excellent wine for as long as she would stay in the past. Not that she was really a wine drinker or any sort of alcohol drinker. She certainly wasn't teetotal but she only drank on the rare occasion, normally in celebration of something, but she felt that being trapped two hundred years out of time was reason enough to sink a few glasses of wine into her body. It might help her get to sleep as well, which would be welcomed as her eyes ached with exhaustion.

"Do you know all their names?" Reinette asked, softly curious, breaking into Zoe's whirlpool of thoughts as they stood side by side at the window.

Although Reinette was older than she was by a good twenty years, Reinette still looked at her in the same wondrous way she had when she was a girl with a monster under her bed, and then again on the night of the Yew Tree ball in one of the many bedrooms in the palace where she had drawn Zoe into her life for one blissful stolen moment.

 _You can't be real, you can't be real_ she had whispered against Zoe's dusky skin, fingers pressing into her and reverence on her lips.

"Some," Zoe said, tipping her head a little closer to the one familiar thing she had left. She had to focus to find the right words in her second language that came sluggishly to her after her long day. "Not all, of course. But did you know that there are more stars in the universe than there are grains of sand in all the beaches and deserts on Earth?"

"No, I didn't," Reinette said, fascinated. "Is that true?"

"Maybe, I don't know," she said with a smile. "I haven't counted them all yet."

"Tell me about them," Reinette whispered, elegant hand reaching out to touch her before she drew it back to her side; Zoe looked at her properly. "Tell me what it's like travelling through the stars."

"Oh, it's amazing," she sighed blissfully, a look of wanderlust creeping into her expression and smoothing out the worry that had settled there. "There's just so much out there. The universe is such a big place with things you can't even begin to imagine. There's this planet...it's called Tolandra and jewels grow out of ground and off trees like plants and fruit. It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen."

She looked down into her wine glass: _beautiful and cruel_ , she amended in her mind.

Reinette stared at Zoe and was in awe of her. She was a woman who travelled the stars; who seemed not to age; and who fought monsters and demons to keep others safe: her imaginary friend come to life to protect her. She looked troubled and deeply saddened though. Reinette was a smart woman – her education in the Ursuline convent and a stream of private tutors ensured that – and she understood the ramifications of shattering the mirror, even if she didn't understand the _how_ of the matter. Zoe had sacrificed her strange and terrifying life she had seen five years ago in order to save hers. She was now bound to walk the slow path with her. A small brush of guilt was overwhelmed by delirious happiness at having her there with her.

"In saving me, you have trapped yourself," Reinette said after the silence stretched between them, companionable but sad. "Did you know that would happen?"

"Yes."

"Yet you still came."

"I made you a promise," Zoe said as though her reasons for standing there were obvious.

She turned her head to look at her and smiled; it was a smile touched by sadness and loss.

Reinette's heart filled with warmth and love. She wanted to erase the sadness from Zoe's expression.

"There were many doors between my world and yours," she said. "Can you not use one of the others?"

"When the mirror broke, the shock would have severed all the links with the ship," Zoe said, taking a slow drink of her wine and looking down into the liquid; it was so dark she could see her face reflected in the surface. "I suppose there'll be a few more broken mirrors and torn tapestries around here...wherever there was a time window, I suppose."

"So, here you are, my darling, stuck on the slow path with me," Reinette said, gently brushing some of Zoe's short hair back from her face, making her look up. Her skin was warm, and her hair was soft.

"Here's to the slow path," she toasted with her best smile. She raised her goblet and took a drink whilst trying not to think on the indeterminate wait she had ahead of her.

Reinette wished she was less honest, less noble, but she wasn't. Her heart broke with the knowledge of what she had to do. She stroked Zoe's cheek.

"It's a pity," she said. "I think I would've enjoyed the slow path."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Zoe said, with a small shrug. "Although, I probably will have to get a job. I suppose I could teach English, but do people even want to learn English in this century? Do I even know how to teach English? I probably don't actually. I know French grammar better than English grammar. Oh, well. I'm sure I'll think of something. I could write, I guess. That might be interesting. Writing was always more Rose's thing than mine, though."

"I believe you will not have to worry about that, my darling," Reinette said, mercifully cutting Zoe off before she continued to ramble her thoughts out loud. The goblet of wine was taken from her hands and set on a small table near them. She took Zoe's hand within hers and led her away from the window. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Zoe asked, feeling the day creeping up on her. She could use a sit down somewhere quiet and dark so that she could press her head into her hands and breathe through the pain.

She also needed a break from speaking French. It was making her head hurt and her jaw ache.

"You shall see."

They walked through the large, echoing corridors that flickered in candlelight. Everyone seemed to have retired for the night, the events of the day catching up on them as surely they were affecting Zoe. Experience told her that in the morning they would have created a plausible explanation for what had happened: an explanation that didn't include clockwork androids and a woman bursting through a large, mounted window to land at the feet of a startled French king.

The Doctor said that people always believed that which made most sense to them, whether or not it was the truth was secondary to whether or not it was believable. She had seen it first hand when she first met the Doctor: Downing Street was blown up and instead of blaming aliens, which they had seen and believed for twenty-four hours, the media span a tale of gas leaks and confusion. Thinking about it in hindsight, perhaps UNIT was responsible for that twisting of facts because it wasn't as though the governments of the world were in the dark about the existence of extraterrestrial life, just their citizens.

Reinette led her into a large bedroom, and her stomach gave a sharp twist. She eyed the bed hesitantly. "Oh, Reinette, I'm - er - honestly, I'm really tired...and not really in the mood right now. I -"

"Hush, my darling," Reinette replied with a small smile that touched the corners of her mouth. "I did not bring you here to make love to you."

"Oh," Zoe said, relieved but oddly disappointed. "Why not?"

"Here," she said, leading her to a fireplace that was familiar. "It's not a copy, it's the original. I had it moved here from Paris and was exact in every detail."

"This is it?" Zoe asked, hope flickering through her like a candle in the breeze. She removed her hands from Reinette's and stepped close to examine it. "The fireplace from when you were a child? Why? Why did you do this?"

"I had hope that a door once opened may someday open again," Reinette confessed, unembarrassed by her feelings. "One never quite knows when one needs one's imaginary friend. It appears undamaged. Do you think it will still work?"

"I have no idea," she said, but she removed the Doctor's sonic screwdriver from the pocket of her jeans. He had put it into her pocket before kissing her forehead with the whispered promise he _would_ come for her before she broke through the time window. "It's not broken, which is strange, although -" she scanned it and read the readings. "Ah. It's offline. You must have broken the connection with the ship when you moved it."

"And you can repair it?"

"I don't know," Zoe said, kneeling on the stone base and pressing her ear against the wall but it was all guesswork. "But there's no harm in trying though."

She wasn't the Doctor and alien technology was unfamiliar to her although, to be fair, so was most human technology. She always had to get Mickey to help her with computer problems, and although she was learning, she was still a far cry away from actually being able to successfully troubleshoot a problem on her own.

Reinette sat on a small chair near her and watched her work in silence. It took an hour before Zoe admitted she didn't know what she was doing and another hour to stop poking at the fireplace in the forlorn hope she might accidentally do the right thing. She lay on her back with her head in the unlit hearth and stared up through the chimney into the darkness. The flash of hope that Reinette had given her died painfully in her chest. She folded her hands across her stomach, holding tightly onto the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. She willed herself not to cry even though her throat felt tight and thick, and her eyes burned with tears. She had known the consequences of breaking through the mirror. She had known what she was getting into. She just hadn't allowed herself to think of the aftermath and so she clung tightly to the Doctor's promise that he would come for her.

She didn't know when he would come but his promise was as real as the sonic screwdriver in her hand.

"I'm so sorry, my darling," Reinette said sadly, and, with a rustle of her skirts, knelt next to her. She looked so sad for her that Zoe couldn't bear to look at her, not just then. She closed her eyes against the emotions rolling through her. "Perhaps in time, you'll be able to fix it."

"Perhaps," Zoe said faintly, but she knew that wouldn't be the case. Even if she got it working in a week, a month, or a year, it wouldn't matter. The Doctor would already have left the TARDIS, and she would have no way to contact him for whilst she had the sonic screwdriver, she didn't have her phone. _That_ she had left next to the computer on the ship like the fool that she was.

"Come," Reinette said with soft kindness. "It has been a long day. I find sleep brings a new perspective to difficult problems."

Zoe allowed Reinette to coax her to her feet and followed her pliantly. She toed off her boots and lay down on Reinette's large and impossibly soft bed in her jeans and jumper. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the homesickness and regret that churned inside of her.

 _What had she done?_


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

 _July 18th 1758, Versailles_

Despite her belief that she wouldn't be able to sleep, Zoe awoke the morning after her stranding in the past to the sun streaming in through the windows and the faint noise of palace servants moving through the gilded hallways. For a moment, she felt as though she was back in London and had simply slept late. She kept her eyes closed so as not to ruin the illusion and imagined the sound of French conversation to be that of her neighbours yelling at each other. The soft thump of clothes against the ground was Frank Callaghan's bike knocking against the front door as it did every morning; the smell of coffee was that of her mother's strong morning tea; the tinkling laughter was Priti Azadi flirting with Mickey when he passed. She curled her fingers into the thick, rich blanket that covered her and pressed her face into the pillow.

It wasn't a dream.

It really had happened.

She was _stuck._

Every part of her tensed with anxiety and fear. Her grip on the blanket nearly tore the material in half. She was alone, trapped in a century that she didn't understand with people who spoke a language that she didn't quite understand. She hid her face into her downy pillow and tried not to cry but it was hard. The tears pressed hotly against the back of her eyes ,and they stung with the pressure. Her nose throbbed with heat, and her chest ached from the situation she had thrust herself into.

She had had time the night before, when she was pretending to sleep so that Reinette wouldn't speak to her as she couldn't keep up the act that everything would be okay for a moment longer, to go over and over the events leading up to her jumping through the shattered time window. She saw where she had gone wrong during the hours she and the Doctor had spent aboard the SS Madam de Pompadour. Her behaviour had been unusually reckless and thoughtless; she had forgotten to think even one step ahead, let alone the usual three or four that she tried to do because, as Jack had once told her, sometimes life was like chess and you needed to know your next few moves. All that had been in her mind was that stupid painting that hung in the Louvre. She had let herself be blinded by the tease of her future and now she was trapped.

"Dammit," Zoe whispered into the pillow, tugging the blanket up to better conceal her face. Her fingers tightened further on the material, her knuckles turning white. "Dammit. Dammit. Dammit."

She missed the Doctor. More than anyone – more than her mother and sister – she wanted him right at that moment. She wanted him to stride in with his heavy boots and his thick leather jacket that held the scent of his spicy aftershave, and she wanted him to make everything right for her. She felt like a child hoping and praying that her parent could make right her mistakes but she knew, deep down, that he wouldn't be able to do that. The time windows were closed, shattered throughout the palace, and she faced weeks, maybe months – but most likely years – before he could come and get her. She had damned herself because she hadn't stopped for a moment and just thought clearly, wrapped up as she was in Reinette and the promise of her painting.

All she had had to do was talk to the Doctor. They could have figured everything out together but she had gone off by herself, leaving him in her dust, and she ached for him. She knew that she had hurt him, and she regretted that. He would do anything for her, and she had treated him as though he was nothing more than an inconvenience simply because he had been a little too overprotective since Tolandra. Not that she blamed him. She had desperately needed his over-protectiveness in the days and early weeks that followed her torture, but it had begun to chafe and now she was without him completely.

She heard the light snap of heels against the marble floor. She quickly pulled herself together, wiping at her eyes and breathing in deeply. A hand lightly touched her arm. She turned, rolling over onto her back, blinking away the lingering remnants of sleep. Reinette smiled down at her, already dressed and coiffed for the day. There were servants bustling about in the room, and Zoe felt vulnerable and on display with them there, grateful that she had gone to sleep in her jeans and jumper instead of the slip that Reinette had changed into. She managed to smile up at her but she couldn't say how convincing it was as Reinette sat on the edge of the bed, hand sliding to take hers.

Reinette was the only familiar thing she had left, and even then she was still a stranger to her no matter how long Reinette claimed to have known her. Their acquaintance wasn't even twenty-four hours old but she was the only thing Zoe had to hold onto and so she held on as tight as she could.

"Good morning," Reinette smiled softly down at her, worry in the lines around her eyes. "Did you sleep well?"

"On and off," Zoe said, pulling her French to the forefront of her mind. She dreaded the day ahead of her where she was going to have to struggle to make herself understood. "What time is it?"

"A little after ten.," she said, glancing at the clock on her wall that she kept in perfect working order now that she knew it could protect her as long as it worked. "I thought you might be hungry, although I don't know if you actually eat proper food."

Humour washed through Zoe, half-remembering a conversation between Jackie and Rose months ago when their mother wondered if the Doctor ate proper food. Her lips twitched. She let her mouth spread into something resembling a proper smile, not a ghost of one that she had used to greet Reinette.

"I eat normal food," Zoe assured her, and she sat up, self-consciously smoothing her hair back and Reinette followed the movement with her eyes before smiling at her.

"Good," she said. "Then come. I have breakfast waiting for you. We can face this day together."

Zoe felt a surge of gratitude towards Reinette. She might be cut off from everything and everyone she knew but there was at least one person who would work towards making her as comfortable and as happy as possible. She nodded and pushed the blanket away. She climbed out of the soft bed and sat at Reinette's small breakfast table, warm summer light bathing them in its glow.

As she peeled apart a croissant, she felt a burst of hope that everything would be okay until the Doctor came and got her.

* * *

 _October, 1758, Versailles_

Zoe stood on top of a small stool and tried not to fidget. After three months of being trapped in the 18th century, Reinette had finally been able to persuade her that perhaps she should consider blending in a little better if she wanted to avoid changing history. It was embarrassing to have it pointed out to her but Reinette did have a point; after all, there were only so many times that she could wash her jeans and jumper as whilst the French knew how to launder _their_ clothes, 21st century material was more than a little bit different. She was also raising eyebrows with the fact that she stole some of the King's clothes, some trousers and shirts; although, she didn't so much as steal them as re-appropriate them from the laundry facilities within the palace. Yet, for all the grief she once gave the Doctor about properly blending it, she was doing a poor job of it herself. Therefore, she had conceded to Reinette's wishes. It seemed as though there had been a plan in place, simply waiting for her agreement, as she was swept away into the chaos of tailoring almost immediately.

Never in her life had Zoe ever had bespoke clothes. She normally got her clothes from Primark, H&M, and occasionally Topshop: places that she could afford on a budget but still look moderately fashionable. She sometimes raided charity shops as well with Rose who had an eye for good quality clothing that could be repurposed or fixed up into something better. But when Rose used to work at Henrik's, in the halcyon days before the Doctor made his appearance, they had all made use of her discount and a number of the items in her wardrobe back home came from the department store. She tried to explain clothing in the 21st century to Reinette who just looked faintly appalled at the thought of such mass production.

"But surely the quality is much worse!" Reinette protested over dinner, and Zoe couldn't argue with that as she had an up close and personal view of Reinette's wardrobe and was taken aback by the beauty and the quality.

"We prefer cheapness over quality," Zoe told her, sipping her wine. "And before you get all worked up, it's not just the English...the French are at it too."

She was entertainingly put out by that.

"I think perhaps a rose colour," Reinette said thoughtfully, holding up swatches of cloth against Zoe's skin to test the tone, tilting her head to one side as she considered it. "Or maybe a dark blue."

"Why not just go for red?" Zoe asked, reluctantly getting involved as it was either give her opinion or suffer whatever was chosen for her.

She tried her hardest not to let her frustration at being trapped creep over into her relationship with Reinette, who was doing everything in her power to make Zoe feel at home, but she couldn't stop the homesickness. Whilst she was making an effort to find ways to be happy and productive in the 18th century, she spent every night sat by the window staring out up at the stars and wishing the Doctor would appear. Sometimes when the wind rustled the leaves of the trees, her mind tricked herself into thinking it was the wheezing, groaning sound of the TARDIS. She was always disappointed when it wasn't. She thought she saw the Doctor around every corner and jumped at the smallest noise, thinking it was him coming for her. She felt as though she was living constantly on the edge of expectation and nothing Reinette did was able to pull her back from it.

Reinette sifted through the swatches and found a lovely red colour. She smiled up at Zoe, enjoying herself immensely, and Zoe softened in the face of it. "I'm envious, my darling. You can wear colours I only dream of."

"And yet put me in – oh, hell, what's the word? Light pinks and blues?"

Reinette paused, thinking. "Pastels?"

"Yes!" Zoe clicked her fingers, the word slotting into her every-growing vocabulary. "Put me in pastels and I look ridiculous." Reinette smiled at that. "Do I need to stay up here for much longer? My back's starting to hurt."

"My, my," Reinette said, eyes shining with amusement at her expense. "One would think that people from your time would be made of sterner stuff."

"We're really quite lazy," Zoe said, trying to work the stiffness out from between her shoulder blades. "And we don't generally stand around being measured for such an intricate wardrobe."

"We are nearly done, my lady," the seamstress said from where she was crouched at her feet, glancing up at her with a small smile. Zoe winked down at her, making the seamstress blush slightly.

Zoe had tried and tried to get people to simply call her Zoe but the court deferred to her as a lady despite her overwhelming lack of noble birth. Louis confessed one night that those who had been there when she arrived and heard the ensuing conversation between her and the clockwork androids called her a Lady of Time. She fell back onto the old adage that laughter was the best way to deal with such complete strangeness. Besides, it was either laugh or cry, and she had spent enough time locking herself away in private so that she could shed her tears.

"This is at least better than the stays fitting," Zoe said with a grimace of displeasure at the memory of being fitted for her under things.

Reinette ignored her complaint with an air of amusement, well-versed in Zoe's distaste for the tight, corset-like underwear that were the fashion of the time. Stays, she had declared to Reinette in a fit of pained umbrage after her first fitting, were a weapon inflicted on women by the male designers to keep them in their place. Unfortunately, in the 18th century and in the circles she reluctantly found herself living in, one had to wear stays so that the line of the dress wouldn't be ruined, and Reinette was unusually strict about her fitting in properly.

After the fitting was over, and Zoe was back in her trousers and shirt, she and Reinette walked around the gardens of Versailles. Reinette was curious about everything. Her intellect shone through in everything she did, and it was easy to see why the king valued her so highly and why the queen considered her a friend. Over the last three months, she had held her curiosity in check in order not to upset Zoe by reminding her of what she had left behind. However, now that Zoe appeared to be moving forward in accepting her new circumstances, the floodgates opened; Zoe found herself fielding question after question about what her life was like growing up, her education - Reinette was fascinated by the idea of compulsory public education -, what forms sexual relationships took in the future, finances, and whether what she created in Versailles lasted.

The last question was the easiest to answer. When Zoe told her that the gardens of Versailles were famous all around the world, Reinette bloomed with delight before becoming overwhelmed with emotion.

When Reinette wasn't needed by the King or holding a salon in her apartments, she was at Zoe's side. It was as though part of her was afraid that Zoe was going to disappear like smoke if she wasn't there to keep her eyes on her. Initially Zoe had found the constant attention suffocating but she relaxed into it and came to enjoy Reinette's company, even look forward to it. Although Zoe had her own apartments given to her by Louis in gratitude for saving his court, she lived in Reinette's. They shared the living space as easily as breathing. It was nice to slip into the large, expensively furnished bed at night and curl up against the warmth of another body. It helped her feel less alone and less like she had been cut adrift.

The French were welcoming and extremely kind. Zoe wasn't sure if that was just their nature or the fact she had saved them from clockwork androids; whatever the reason was, she was treated with great friendship. The king himself took time out of his day – every day – to have a conversation with her, and she soon found herself in the middle of a friendship with him before she knew what was happening. He reminded her of Mickey in a way: kind, friendly, good-natured. She enjoyed spending thirty minutes with him each day, and he was the one to suggest employing some tutors for her.

Her depth of knowledge was fragmented by 18th century France's standards. Her knowledge of music, art, philosophy, French history, dancing, and needlework were non-existent, and people didn't seem impressed that she knew about science. It was apparently considered unseemly for a woman to know mathematics and physics, which obviously rubbed up against her the wrong way; but, never one to turn down an excuse for learning, particularly when it was free and an opportunity for her to distract herself from her grief and homesickness, she agreed to Louis suggestions and soon found herself in lessons day after day. She flourished in the private one-on-one tuition and felt happier than she had in a very long time, something that pleased Reinette greatly as she had been filled with worry about her.

She would sit at Zoe's feet, her arms folded on Zoe's lap and listen as she played the piano with faltering fingers before she grew in confidence and skill. They would spend hours there as the light faded from the sky, and Reinette wondered if she had ever felt happier in her life. When Zoe smiled down at her, she couldn't believe that a time when she was happier existed.

They spent their days within the confines of the Palace of Versailles and its gardens where they would lie beneath a tree on the edges of the garden, hidden away from view, and just talk. Reinette wanted to know everything about her, and she spilled over with questions that Zoe answered with an amused patience, happily creating a world Reinette could only imagine for her to explore. Those conversations also proved helpful for Zoe's French. People in 18th century France tended not to speak English, at least not amongst the circles that she found herself moving in: French, Italian, German, Latin, and Russian were the languages of the day. English was considered beneath them, which meant that Zoe had to focus intensely when speaking and listening, but Reinette helped to correct her 21st century French to 18th century French.

All in all, it had been an exhausting three months but she was doing better than she had been in the immediate aftermath of the time window breaking.

When her clothes finally arrived a few weeks later, the first thing she and Reinette did was to venture out into the city that surrounded the palace: not Paris, but Versailles itself, which was smaller and more provincial than the capital. It was a breath of fresh air to leave the palace, which was wonderful but had the tendency to feel horribly stifling and isolating for someone who had grown accustomed to stepping out of the TARDIS onto a new world every other day.

The city was nice, and Reinette promised that they would visit Paris for the season, whatever that meant. Even though the city was within walking distance of the palace, they travelled in an ornate royal carriage that was led by two gorgeous horses, their coats gleaming in the sunshine, and they explored the city from the inside of the carriage. People recognised Reinette and dropped into a curtsey when she passed and eyed Zoe curiously as she made no attempt to conceal herself whilst peering out from within. She was used to being stared at though as it came part and parcel of being friends with the Doctor since he tended to draw the eye.

They ate a picnic lunch in the summer sun and talked and laughed about nothing and everything. It was a different life to what Zoe thought her life would be like, both before and after the Doctor's appearance in her life, but that didn't mean it was a bad one.

It also didn't mean that she wouldn't be happy to leave it behind when the Doctor arrived.

* * *

 _December 1st 1758, Versailles_

Reinette woke up to the sound of Zoe singing. She stayed perfectly still and listened to the unusual sound of music flowing from her friend's mouth as she moved about their apartments. She didn't recognise the song but that meant nothing. There were very few things that Zoe spoke about or did that she recognised, and she always put it down to the fact that she was from the future. She marvelled at what Zoe told her of the future and the technology they had: vehicles that moved much faster than horses; huge buildings that towered in the sky; creations that carried people from one country to another across the vast expanse of the seas in a single day. It all sounded so strange and marvellous, and she longed to see it. Mostly though, she longed to see the world that Zoe truly came from, believing that it would help her to understand the other woman more deeply.

" _Deck the halls with boughs of holly, tra-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la,_ " Zoe sang in her native language, and Reinette rolled over onto her back and propped herself up on her elbows so that she could watch her.

She seemed to be in a joyous mood that morning. Something inside of Reinette relaxed at the sight of her tension-free body. She loved Zoe with every part of her but her moods made her tremble with anxiety. She was never able to tell when they would have a good day where Zoe would be engaged and good humoured or a bad day when she would be sullen and almost as though she was in pain. Reinette never knew how to behave on such days as everything she did seemed to be wrong, though Zoe was too polite to say so. She wished that she wasn't though. Reinette wished that they could just have an argument and then make up as it seemed kinder than having to live on eggshells until Zoe felt better.

She tried to be understanding and place herself in Zoe's shoes: cut off from her family, her world, and the wonders of the universe to live a sedate and comfortable life with a woman she had known for only a handful of hours. It was difficult for her to comprehend, as much of Zoe's life was, but she did try. And Zoe also tried to fit in with Reinette's life though it was obviously completely foreign to her, and she took umbrage at the general treatment of women, blacks, the poor, foreigners. Reinette still burned at the memory of when Zoe discovered that there were slaves in the palace. She had been devastatingly furious when she found out and the palace had shaken with it. Nothing Reinette had done was able to get her off the war path, and Louis had borne the brunt of her anger, much to Reinette's terror; she loved Louis but he was the King, something that Zoe didn't properly understand or respect.

The end result of the entire ugly affair had been Louis freeing the slaves and then paying them a more than fair wage for their services, including retroactive pay from the moment they arrived. For a long time after that incident, Reinette feared that both she and Zoe would be banished from the court but Louis moved on as though nothing had happened and soon everything settled down again. She truly loved and admired how brave and noble Zoe was but she terrified her sometimes with her righteous anger and inability to let an injustice slide. It went against everything that she had been trained to do: diplomacy, negotiations, and taking delicate steps towards a solution.

Still, one could hardly argue with the outcome.

"Ah, you're awake," Zoe smiled, the song falling from her mouth as she switched languages. "Good morning."

"Morning," Reinette said with a smile, brushing her hair from her eyes. "You're in a good mood."

"I am," she said, sipping her morning coffee before setting it down and returning to bed to join her. "I was just thinking how different this Christmas is going to be from my last one."

"And that's put you in this mood?" Reinette asked, surprised, as normally memories of the life she had left behind left her melancholic. "Is Christmas still not a time for celebration and worship in your time?"

"Celebration, yes, worship – _eh_." She see-sawed her hand. "Depends if you're religious, which I am not."

Reinette was well aware of her lack of religion as she never accompanied her to worship on a Sunday, despite her best attempts to get her to do so. Religion was a concept that Zoe understood but wanted nothing to do with: self-indulgent tripe, she called it once when she had a little too much wine in her stomach. She supported the idea of personal religion but organised religion such as the Catholic Church was something that she was against. Since it was a delicate topic between them, they rarely discussed Reinette's faith and Zoe's lack of it, both respecting the other's position whilst not particularly liking it.

"Anyway, last Christmas was a bit of a non-event," Zoe explained, lying back on their bed and tucking an arm under her head. Reinette turned on her side and propped her head up on her hand so that she could listen attentively. "My sister still was missing. By that point it had been – oh, gosh – about nine months since she disappeared. We didn't really celebrate. Mum got drunk and was crying, and I ended up in hospital from alcohol poisoning. I needed to have my stomach pumped."

"What does that mean?"

"Er – it's when the doctors take out all the bad stuff in your stomach so that it doesn't poison you," she tried to explain. "Kind of like making yourself throw up but with a long tube and some suction."

"That sounds absolutely awful."

"It wasn't pleasant," Zoe admitted. "Mum was furious with me. We had this screaming row in the middle of the hospital ward I was on: all snot and tears, you know? When we got back home, it was Christmas day. We just slept and pretended that nothing was missing."

"I'm sorry," Reinette said softly. "One would think that a Lord of Time would be better at getting the date correct."

Zoe laughed. "Me too. But Rose came back three months later, I met the Doctor, and then I met you. So life's really been on the up ever since then."

Reinette couldn't help but laugh. "You would not change a thing?"

"Well..." she started, and Reinette's heart shuddered in her chest, cursing herself for leaving such an opening when she was so unsure of Zoe's feelings for her. "I would change Tolandra, because I did not enjoy being tortured."

Reinette knew of Tolandra. It was impossible for her not to know as they shared a bed and the nightmares started up again about a week after Zoe was stranded in the 18th century. She had woken screaming in agony, her legs and arms kicking at the blankets on top of her. Reinette had been so afraid that she had called for help, servants running into the room with armed guards, but Zoe was on her hands and knees on the cold marble floor and her body was heaving with the after effects of her nightmare, trembling and covered in cold sweat. Reinette sent those summoned away and sat with Zoe as she regained control of herself and fell back to sleep, curled so tightly in Reinette's arms that she might snap. The next morning over breakfast, Zoe explained Tolandra to her. Reinette had moved about that day in a haze, angry at those who had not yet been born for having hurt Zoe.

The nightmares came and went but they were fewer and fewer as time went on, which Reinette thought was a good sign.

"So, yeah, I'm looking forward to Christmas this year," Zoe said, rolling onto her side and propping her own head up so that they could face each other better. "I know I'm not with my family, but I'm with you and that's a good thing."

Sometimes Zoe said something and it would make Reinette melt and fall even more deeply in love with her.

"Well, I promise that this year will be a wonderful Christmas," Reinette said once she was certain she could speak without her emotions clouding her voice. "I believe you will enjoy the Christmas ball as well. I've already ordered you a dress to wear. It should be arriving any day now."

"Do I have to wear my stays?"

"Yes."

Zoe groaned.

* * *

 _December 30th 1758, Versailles_

One morning, shortly after Reinette's thirty-eighth birthday and sometime after Zoe's eighteenth that had slipped passed unnoticed until Reinette asked when her birthday was and they did some calculations to realise that it had passed them by – in the eighteenth century, Zoe's birthday fell on August 14th instead of January 30th –, King Louis XV appeared in the middle of one of her moods. Reinette had named the dark cloud that would fall over her on occasion as _moods_ , which Zoe did not like or appreciate. She was sitting in a window seat after having dismissed her tutor for the day, her Latin workbook opened in her lap. Her moods were few and far between of late but they still crept up on her. They were the cause of many an argument between her and Reinette, who was accustomed to concealing her emotions as par for the course for her lifestyle; she found Zoe's liberalness with her more negative emotions off-putting. She was uncertain how to handle Zoe during those moments, and Zoe resented the implication that she needed to be handled. It left them both frustrated with each other, and Reinette had left in a flurry of skirts that morning with a tightness around her eyes and mouth that made Zoe feel guilty.

"Good morning, my lady," Louis greeted pleasantly.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. He never normally sounded so cheerful in the mornings as his time was often taken up by briefings that he found tedious but necessary given the state of war that France was currently experiencing.

"Did Reinette send you?" She asked because he looked as though he had been forewarned about her mood and was approaching her with all that tentativeness that a king knew how to employ, which wasn't an awful lot.

"She did not," he said. "But she did mention that you are feeling a little unhappy today. So, since I have time in my schedule, I thought I'd take you riding."

"Riding?"

"Yes," he nodded. "On horses."

"I know what riding is," Zoe said. "I don't ride. You know that."

"Then what better time to learn?" He asked and offered his arm to her, willing to wait patiently for her to take it. "I have just the horse for you in the stables: a wonderful creature, nice and docile. You'll feel perfectly safe."

"It's thick with snow out there," she pointed out, nodding out of the thin windows that made her long for the warmth of double glazing.

The large grounds were blanketed with pure white snow that looked picturesque and exactly what the Christmas period should look like.

"All the better," he said encouragingly. "For if you fall, you shall be cushioned."

"What a ringing endorsement for the sport of riding," Zoe said with a grumble, but she knew not to refuse an offer of friendship from the king since it was on his kindness and wealth that she continued to live at the palace.

They were still somewhat out of sorts with each other over their disagreement regarding slaves, and she recognised an olive branch when she saw one. She also knew it was best to get out of her negative head space as soon as possible; mainly for her own mental health but also because it was unfair to ask Reinette to live with her whilst she was covered with a dark cloud. With a small sigh, she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and he smiled up at her as she was taller than he was; although, she was taller than most due to her lifetime of good nutrition and free healthcare.

Louis had a way of getting what he wanted without the other person realising it. It was a useful skill for a king to have; though she knew what he was doing, she allowed herself to be pulled along by him. There was no need for her to change her clothes. She had a number of dresses that she often wore when the situation required it, which was whenever Reinette said, but when she knew she would just be studying all day or only seeing Reinette, she preferred to wear her trousers under a thigh-length jacket that had been designed specifically for her comfort.

The king was talking about his recent meeting his political advisors. Zoe had learnt early on that the French were embroiled in a rather extensive, complex, and expensive war that stretched across the world. She remembered reading about it at college but only briefly: there was a mention to it in the chapter on the French Revolution. The Seven Years' War it was called, and it would end in 1763; some historians dubbed it World War Zero due to its scale. Not that she told Louis that, even though he did occasionally try to pump her for information. She pleaded ignorance and ignored any further questions that came from him on future matters.

"Your majesty, Lady Zoe," the Crown Equerry bowed when Louis and Zoe walked in, arm in arm, chilled from the walk, their boots crusted with snow.

"Good morning, Jean-Paul," Louis greeted. He prided himself on knowing the names of all of those who worked in the palace and provided him with some sort of service, behaviour she hadn't expected from a king. She suspected his genial attitude came from an assassination attempt - the perpetrator a former employee – a few months before she crashed into his court. "Do you have our horses ready?"

"Of course, sir," Jean-Paul said with a bow. "Right this way."

They followed Jean-Paul to where the king's horse was already saddled and waiting for him, a nervous stable boy holding it in place. Next to the magnificent steed was a slightly smaller but no less daunting animal. It dwarfed Zoe. Its coat was a burning red, which was beautiful but intimidating, and she eyed it with healthy caution whilst remaining at a safe distance from it. She wished she could have had Arthur but he was an older horse who had been put out to pasture some months before. Louis looked around at her when he realised that she was no longer walking next to him.

"As your king, I can command you to do this," Louis said with far more amusement than Zoe thought he should be feeling at that moment in time.

"Need I remind you that you're not _my_ king?" Zoe replied, and the stable boy stared at her in horror, unable to believe she would speak to the king like that.

"You must have ridden a horse before."

"Nope, not once," she said with a vigorous shake of her head. "I'm pretty sure this is the closest I've ever been to one, including Arthur, and this seems like a sensible distance to stand. It looks shifty."

"Nonsense," Louis scoffed, and he dropped to one knee in front of her. He looped his hands together to form a step up for her. The stable boy watched with wide eyes at the sight of the king kneeling for anyone, let alone a black woman. "Up you get."

"Louis -"

"Zoe." His tone was patient but firm. "You yourself said that learning to ride a horse would be useful."

"I've now come to rethink my position on the matter."

"I would not have thought a Lady of Time would be afraid of such a trifling thing," he said with far too much innocence, and she narrowed her eyes at him before placing her foot into his hand with more force than required. He lifted her up and she swung her leg over the saddle.

She gripped at the pommel with wide eyes. "This is really high."

"You will be fine," Louis assured her. He smoothly mounted his own horse before nodding to the stable boy who hurried forwards and took hold of the reins to Zoe's horse. "Nice and calm, just as I told you."

"Oh god." She closed her eyes and gripped tightly at the reins as the horse started to move forwards. "If I fall, I'm going to be very unhappy with you."

Louis laughed, warm, happy and only partially aimed at her, and followed her out of the stable atop his horse.

Later that evening, Zoe's body ached from a day of horse riding. She wasn't sure how Louis found the time in his schedule, but he had stayed with her all day and by the time they were done, she felt confident on top of a horse: confident enough to challenge him to a race. He won of course but she was laughing by the time she caught up with him, and she felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her chest. Before, she had felt that she was suffocating, a tight vice squeezing around her that made it hard to breathe, but afterwards she felt much lighter and far happier than before.

Louis left her with a pleased look on his face that she didn't mind even though she abhorred smugness.

"I hear you proved yourself quite adept at horse riding," Reinette said by way of greeting when she breezed into their rooms after Zoe had finished sponging her body down and washing the smell of horse from her skin and was settled in for the night.

Zoe looked up at her over the top of her book, a work by Voltaire. She raised her eyebrows at her as Reinette began to remove her jewellery. Since Zoe had moved in, Reinette had done away with her personal servants in the apartments as their presence made Zoe uncomfortable; she likened it to feeling like she was a goldfish in a fish bowl to be stared at and fed when the need arose.

"Talking to the king by any chance?"

"He might have mentioned how he was impressed," she replied, taking her earrings out and setting them in her ornate jewellery box. "He was surprised that an Englishwoman could ride so well."

"We English are full of surprises," Zoe replied, setting her book to one side so that she could focus on Reinette who deserved more than half of her attention. "I think I may enjoy riding with a little more practice."

"I've always found it quite invigorating."

"Perhaps..." she hesitated, and Reinette looked over curiously. "Perhaps you can join me one day. We can ride together."

Reinette stared at her for just long enough for her to begin regretting her invitation. Despite living together, their relationship hadn't progressed beyond fond friendship, although Zoe was perfectly aware that Reinette was in love with her and wished for the feelings to be reciprocated. Reinette had been in love with her since she was a little girl, and everything Reinette did for Zoe was an extension of that love.

Zoe's own feelings on the matter were somewhat more complicated. She certainly liked Reinette a great deal as it was impossible not to like her for her personality was kind, generous, and open. She was brilliant and funny, and Zoe preferred spending time with her more than with anyone else. In many ways, Reinette reminded her of the Doctor with a splash of Jack thrown in for good measure. Being around her hurt sometimes because she was an occasional reminder of what she had lost, but she still liked Reinette a lot. Whether it was love or something else though, she didn't know. It was certainly something. When she was around Reinette, she felt relaxed and herself. She loved making her laugh, and she was the one that Zoe wanted to talk to at the end of each day.

When she turned over in their bed that they shared despite the lack of romance between them, and saw her sleeping face lying next to hers on the pillow, she felt a warmth bloom through her that she struggled to put a name too. Was it love? Was it gratitude? She didn't know but she enjoyed lying there and watching her sleep, tracing the planes of her face with her eyes and, if she felt particularly bold, the tips of her fingers.

She didn't know if it was love though.

One thing she was sure of however was that people in love didn't wait quietly and with ever-diminishing hope for a mad man in a blue box to come and whisk them away as she did every night.

"You want me to join you?" Reinette asked, doing an excellent job of masking her surprise and tentative elation.

"Only if you have time, of course," Zoe said, trying to appear unaffected no matter what her answer was but she found that she wanted her to say yes. "But I think you would be a nicer partner than the king. He's a bit of a tease."

She laughed. "Yes, he is. I would love to come riding with you. Of course I would."

"Oh, okay then," Zoe replied, feeling flustered. She rose to her feet awkwardly. "That's good. Er – are you thirsty? I'll call for some more wine. I – er – I might have drank what we had."

And in the time honoured tradition of every awkward person with a crush that they didn't know what to do about, Zoe ran away whilst Reinette watched her with a thoughtful, hopeful expression on her face.


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

 _May 14th 1760, Paris_

Reinette alighted from her carriage and tugged her hood closer about her face. Her eyes lingered on the dirty faces of the poor who congregated to see who was wealthy enough to travel in such luxury. For a moment, she wished that she had travelled as she normally did when visiting Zoe in the city but she had been in a hurry; since there wasn't a moment to waste, she forwent her usual discreet practices and commanded that her usual carriage be prepared for her. She still wore the elegant gown she had donned for dinner with Louis, not having taken the time to change, fear pounding through her that each passing minute would be fatal for her dearest friend.

She looked away from the poor and entered the building that she despised. Why Zoe chose to live in such a state was beyond her. Sometimes she thought that Zoe did it as a form of penance, though what she had to repent Reinette couldn't imagine. They had spent enough time arguing about her living conditions that Reinette didn't spare it any thought as there were other more pressing matters on her mind. She quickly ascended the creaking wooden stairs, the hem of her dress lifted away from the ground, and Zoe's landlord waited for her, hovering in the doorway. He was an odious man that Reinette despised for the way he spoke to her and for the way he treated Zoe because of the colour of her skin. Often she had contemplated simply buying up the building but her purse strings were stayed by the thought of how angry Zoe would be if she did just that.

She was strangely touchy when it came to issues of money.

"Step aside," Reinette ordered, her voice sharp and authoritative.

The landlord, whose name she never cared to remember, jumped at her sharp address, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her court attire and something akin to recognition flickered on his taut, hard-worn face. He moved aside so quickly that he tripped over the peeling undersole of his old boots and staggered back into the door frame, which creaked loudly under his weight. She ignored him and swept into the room. Her hand rose to cover her nose at the stench: heat pressed in from all sides, and a fire burnt bright and strong in the old fireplace that was only stoked for her visits; the curtains were drawn over the window, and a small candle lamp burned next to the bed.

A doctor was leaning over Zoe, her slender wrist held in his hand as he took her pulse, and Reinette's breath caught in her throat. If it were not for the shallow rise and fall of Zoe's chest, she would have been certain that she was dead.

Her warm brown skin was ashy and grey, a bluish tinge had crept into her dull colouring, sweat clinging to every inch of her. Her face held none of its usual vibrancy and lustre, cheeks sinking in against jaw and cheekbones; her skin pulled tight against her skull, and her eyes were hollow and searching. From beneath the line of the shirt that Zoe usually slept in, Reinette's eyes traced over the protruding sharpness of her collarbones. She knew that if she pushed the shirt up then her ribs would easily be counted by the naked eye.

"What's wrong with her?" Reinette asked, voice cracking as she lowered her hand; her head swam from the combined stench of bodily waste, medicine, and herbs that came together to create a thoroughly unpleasant odour.

"An infection, my lady," the doctor said, eyes lingering on her; recognition set in quicker with him than it had with the landlord.

She imagined he was one of those men who liked to imagine he moved in higher circles than he did. His spine straightened, and his shoulders rolled back as though he sensed an opportunity for social movement.

"Clearly," Reinette said sharply. "What kind of infection?"

"I do not know, madam," he replied, eyes dropping back to his patient. "Though it is a common one amongst the poor."

"She's not destitute," she said, despite all evidence to the contrary surrounding them. "She works as a teacher in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. Many of her students are the sons and daughters of the poor."

"Then that explains where the infection came from," the doctor replied politely but scepticism remained on his face. A sharp anger rose up inside Reinette, both at his audacity to not believe her and Zoe's reckless stupidity that had led her to such a sickness. "Although, I'm uncertain as to what this is. Perhaps it came from this."

She looked on as he withdrew from his coat Zoe's sonic screwdriver. The name meant nothing to her, but she knew that it was a powerful piece of technology from a time Reinette had seen only briefly. It was also the last remaining link Zoe had to the Doctor, and though she had had no cause to use it, she carried it on her person just in case. Zoe described it as a scientific instrument that could be used as a pacifist's weapon: disable but never harm. Reinette didn't quite see the point of a weapon that did not kill but, yet again, that was an area that the two of them differed in.

"It's only a family heirloom," Reinette replied and extended her hand for her. "She is safeguarding it for her friend. If you please?"

The doctor was reluctantly to part with it as he had weighed its value and found its worth, but he valued his position in society more than the gold coins the strange trinket could weight his pocket with. He passed it over the Reinette, and she held it tightly in one hand, the unfamiliar weight and grip of it reminding her of Zoe: incomprehensible, terrifying, and so very beautiful.

"How does one treat this?" She asked, wanting to surge forward and pull Zoe's wrist from the doctor's grubby hand and take it within her own, but she restrained herself.

"It is difficult to treat, madam," he told her. "But water is essential. This illness dehydrates the body and makes it difficult to retain food and water. Already she has expelled much of what she has consumed."

That explained the rich, fishy stench that clung to the air beneath the herbs that burned.

"She's been sick for many days before I was summoned to see her," he continued as though explaining away his complicity in the depths and dangers of her illness. "It may already be too late."

"Then your usefulness is at an end," Reinette said him, her desire to be alone with Zoe and her anger at his lack of concern pushing through her lifetime habit of politeness and charm. She reached into the inside of her dress – into a pocket that Zoe had encouraged her to create as _pockets are useful_ – and she withdrew some gold coins that she placed into his hand. "Thank you for your service. Please see yourself out."

He looked at the coins and then at her. His grip on Zoe's wrist eased, and her arm flopped to the bed like a limp flower that was approaching the end of its life.

"Very kind, madam, very kind, thank you." He bowed fatuously to her. "Should you require my services again, you need only ask for –"

"I will not," she cut him off, eyes flashing at him.

He froze, mouth open mid-word, and a dull red colour blotched his cheeks and embarrassment made him stiff and angry but her attention was no longer on him; she didn't care about his blustering attempts to regain his dignity even as he left.

The landlord lingered in the doorway, but Reinette turned her face over her shoulder and he quickly retreated, pulling the rickety door shut behind him. Left alone at last, Reinette sank down onto her knees at Zoe's bedside and took her hand within hers. Her skin was wrinkled and cold; it felt as though it was old parchment that would crumble at the slightest touch, and she could feel every bone within. Fear pulsed through Reinette at the sight of her friend in such a state. Though she knew that Zoe wasn't perfect with her dark moods, sharp tongue, and glowering silences, part of her believed that she was somehow invincible, and that she was above the usual concerns of mortals.

It was a powerful revelation to discover that she was not.

"Zoe, my darling, can you hear me?" Reinette whispered, reaching into the bowl on the table and wringing the cloth of water to press it against Zoe's forehead.

She turned into the cool sensation. Her eyes fluttered, and her cracked mouth opened. "Doctor?"

Reinette's heart ached. "No, darling, it's me, it's Reinette."

"Reinette?" She breathed, working her jaw with a grimace. "What are you doing here?"

"You're sick," Reinette said softly, drawing her thin hand to her lips and kissing the pronounced knuckles. "A message was sent to the palace. I came as soon as I heard. What sort of trouble have you got into this time?"

"I don't feel so good," Zoe whispered, pained. "Everything hurts."

"I know," she whispered, holding her hand a little tighter. "I'm sorry, but I'm here to take you home. The king's physician will look you over. He'll make you feel better, I promise."

"I waited..." she began, trailing off as a spasm of pain gripped her. "I wanted to see you..."

"I'm here now," she soothed, smoothing the cloth over her forehead and her chest. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry," Zoe said, struggling to keep her eyes open. "I didn't want to worry you."

"Then you're a fool," Reinette replied, tears pricking at her eyes. "Because I always worry about you. I would worry more if you let me."

Her cracked lips spread into a small smile. "You deserve better than me."

"That is for me to decide," Reinette told her. "And we are not having this conversation now. I need to move you back to the palace. Can you walk?"

"I don't know," Zoe said tiredly. "I'm leaking."

"Leaking?"

"It's awful," she complained, briefly sounding like herself. "I think this is what dying is. Am I dying?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Reinette said seriously. She was filled with such determination that she would fight death itself and God as well if that was the only way she could keep Zoe at her side, in whatever capacity she would be allowed. "Now, hush. You need to rest. Everything is going to be okay."

Zoe blinked at her with her hollow, sunken eyes. "I don't deserve your kindness. Not after the way I've treated you."

Reinette swallowed against the knot of emotion in her throat. "I said hush. Do try and do as you're told for once, my darling."

A rattling laugh briefly filled the room before the strength faded from her body. She sank back into the mattress and pillows, her hand slack in Reinette's hand. At her side, Reinette bowed her head and let silent tears track down her face, fear that she was about to lose the most remarkable person she had ever met to something as common as a working class disease. She breathed in shakily and wiped the tears from her cheeks before she rose and crossed the room to the door. She pulled it open. The landlord was halfway down the stairs, clearly having been eavesdropping on the conversation; he turned and looked up at her, hesitant in his wrongdoing.

"Fetch my footmen," Reinette ordered. "And tell them to hurry."

It took only two of the footmen who had accompanied her to carry Zoe down the stairs. She was wrapped in the cleanest blanket Reinette was able to find, most of them soiled by the illness, and she was placed in the back of the carriage. Reinette climbed in after her and sat on the floor, her skirts clouding up around her, but it was the best place for her as it allowed her to keep Zoe's body steady during the jolting journey back to the palace.

"Glass," Zoe whimpered in an agony that tore through Reinette. "My bones feel like glass. Stop the carriage."

"It's not long to go, my darling," Reinette promised, smoothing her wild hair back. It was longer now than it had been when she became stranded in the past, and Reinette loved the chaotic curls though they were sodden with sweat and seemed to cause Zoe some discomfort as they stuck to her neck and face.

Not soon enough, the journey came to an end, and Zoe was once more lifted into the arms of a strong footman and carried through the palace. Reinette hurried along behind her, wanting to kick her shoes off so that she could move more quickly but she tempered herself as servants were watching; instead, she called out for the king's physician to be called and called quickly. The servants did as she commanded, and Zoe was barely settled on the bed before Le Mariniére swept through the door, dressed as though he hadn't been woken in the middle of the night, his assistant trailing after him with less dignity and composure.

Le Mariniére – a tall, strong man who had studied at the finest universities in Paris and who had noble blood flowing through his veins – was infinitely more qualified than the doctor looking to root through Zoe's belongings as she lay dying in order to find something to sell. He came immediately when summoned and took one look at Zoe, who had not handled the journey back to Versailles well and the carriage would need to be cleaned or, more accurately, _burned,_ before he ordered the windows to be thrown wide open, a bath to be drawn, and water sweetened with juice brought to her. He stood over her with a professional mask on his face but Reinette, who had spent her life in the royal court, was able to read the concern in the lines of his face.

"Cholera," Le Mariniére informed her once Zoe was bathed, freshly dressed, and lying in the richer, more comfortable bed of Madam de Pompadour. Reinette stood to the side, shoulder to shoulder with Louis who had come to investigate what had happened. "I've seen it amongst the poor before, though it is not as common here in France as it is in India, particularly Lady Zoe's case. She is rather advanced in her illness, which is a matter of concern. How long has she been suffering?"

"Some days," Reinette replied, proud that her voice did not tremble even as her hands did. "The doctor who was attending her said that it had been some days before he was called."

"It shows," Le Mariniére said disapprovingly, though whether he disapproved of the other physician or the nature of Zoe's case was hard to tell. "She has a fever, which is worrying, and she's not taking the liquids as I hoped she would. It is necessary to keep her hydrated otherwise she will die."

"I will see that she drinks," Reinette said, twisting her hands in the skirt of her dress. "She is a stubborn fool, but she is also strong, and she will drink once she sees the wisdom of it. What else must be done?"

"She must be kept cool," Le Mariniére continued. "A bath in lukewarm water: once in the morning, and once in the evening. If necessary, she can be sponged in between. Also, I want her to drink yarrow tea. It will help increase her sweating and bring her fever to an end sooner rather than later. If she will not drink that then ginger tea also works."

"It will be done."

"And try and get her to eat something," he said, a frown deepening on his forehead. "Something easy on the stomach such as beef or chicken broth. It's liquid form will help hydrate her, and the nutrients should also help her body to begin repairing itself. Furthermore, keep the room well-ventilated. It does no patient good to be locked away in the dark and the heat."

"Thank you, monsieur, thank you," Reinette said gratefully, pressing his hands. He was momentarily surprised before a small smile softened his stern countenance. "I am in your debt."

"I serve in honour of the king, madam." Le Mariniére bowed to her. "I will return in the morning to check on her progress, but do not hesitant to call for me if you feel she is taking a turn for the worse."

"Thank you, Phillipe," Louis said, his voice deep and resonant. They watched him leave before Reinette sank against Louis's side; she pressed her face into his neck, a dry sob catching her shoulders. He put his arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "There, there, my dear. Zoe is strong, this will not stop her for long."

"I hope you're right," she said, feeling exhausted and wrung out. "I'm not sure what I would say to the Doctor should he arrive to find her..."

"And that is your only concern?" He asked her, looking down at her knowingly. He rubbed her arm tenderly. "She will be recovered before you know it and the two of you can continue your strange courtship."

She laughed wetly. "That is a nice thought, though there is no courtship, my dear king. You know she does not care for me like that."

"She cares for you more than you think," Louis replied, rubbing the underside of his chin against the top of her head. "Now go, try and rest. I know you. You're going to fulfil the role of a nursemaid to our Lady Time and to do that you must be rested."

"Thank you, Louis," Reinette said, wiping at her eyes with his handkerchief. "For being here."

"Always, my love," he promised, and he watched her make her way back to Zoe's prone form, his face falling into lines of concern and worry.

Zoe really didn't look at well.

* * *

 _May 23rd 1760, Versailles_

"You are very lucky, Lady Zoe," Le Mariniére said one week later from his perch on the edge of Zoe's sickbed, the back of his hand pressed against her forehead as he checked to see that there were no lingering signs of fever. "You were uncomfortably close to death but not a few days ago."

"It felt it," Zoe agreed, peering up at him and managing a crooked smile despite the lingering pain from her illness; cholera was not something that she ever wanted to experience again. "I still feel achy though. Is that going to last long?"

"For a while yet," he informed her, not without sympathy. "But fresh air, some gentle exercise, and a return to a healthy diet will see you right. I urge you not to do anything... _reckless_."

"Reckless?"

"It's been impossible not to overhear your conversations with Madam de Pompadour," he said, which she thought was a polite way of saying that the whole palace was aware of the loud and angry fights she and Reinette had been having since her return to consciousness. "I am aware that there is a situation you feel you must deal with in the city, but I must warn you that overexerting yourself now will be detrimental to your health, particularly if this overexertion takes place in the poorer, less sanitised districts of Paris."

"Thank you," Zoe said, looking away from him to risk a glance up at Reinette who stood nearby with a stony expression on her face. "I'll bear that in mind."

Le Mariniére made a small sound of disbelief in his throat but he was used to dealing with kings and queens and so made no further effort to prevent her from doing what he considered a reckless and damaging activity. Instead, he packed up his belongings and gave her further instructions about the type of food she should eat: fresh fruit, fish, soups, and as much wine as she wanted. He bowed slightly to Reinette before he took his leave, the door shutting softly behind him. The room plunged into a heavy silence. Only the sound of the birds could be heard from the open window that was letting in the warm summer air.

"So I'm not going to die," Zoe said in an attempt to break the tension between them, but even as the words left her mouth she knew they were a mistake.

"Not for lack of trying on your part," Reinette said sharply, and Zoe winced at her tone. "And don't think I'm not fully aware that you mean to return to Paris immediately."

"I've told you why –" she began with exasperation creeping into her voice.

"Yes, of course, these _aliens_ that you claim are kidnapping children," Reinette interrupted, using air quotes to deepen her sarcasm: a gesture she could only have picked up from Zoe. "Aliens that you have no proof even exist. Tell me, darling, have you paused to think that they might have been a creation of your fevered mind?"

"I'm not crazy, Reinette!"

"I did not say you were!" She snapped back. "And stay in bed."

"No," Zoe said petulantly, tossing aside the covers. "I shan't."

"Zoe Tyler, you will stay in that bed even if I have to tie you to it myself," Reinette ordered icily, striding forwards and pulling the covers back over her before Zoe could so much as get her leg out of it.

"Stop it!"

"You stop it!"

"Reinette, dammit –"

"I will not have you work yourself to death."

"There are children dying!"

"There are always children dying!" Reinette cried. "There's always something with you! If it's not children disappearing then it's attempting to single-handedly abolish slavery, or it's helping someone find their lost dog, or it's making sure the poor have enough food!"

"You're angry with me because I help people?"

"I'm angry with you because you'll help anyone but yourself first!" She snapped. "You are not immortal!"

"I know that!"

"Do you?" She demanded. "Because you are doing your level best to cause harm to yourself so what other reason could there possibly be?"

"I'm just doing what I've always done, Reinette," Zoe argued. "Help people. You used to like that about me."

"I used to like a lot about you," Reinette said sharply, turning away from her and taking an angry step only to curse when her toe cracked against the side of the bed. "Ow!"

"Now you've gone and hurt yourself, you fool," Zoe said irritably. "Sit down and let me look at your foot."

"Oh, stop it," she snapped even though she did sit down, her toe throbbing with pain. She was reluctant to lose face in front of Zoe whilst angry with her. "You're not a doctor."

"And you're not a nurse, but that hasn't stopped you from fussing over me like one for the last week," she shot back. "Give me your damn foot."

"No."

"Reinette."

There was an edge of warning to Zoe's voice that made her sigh and shift before lifting her foot into Zoe's lap. Zoe tugged the soft slipper off of her foot and held the delicately carved foot in her hands. She manipulated the toes and, though Reinette hissed a little, nothing was broken. She rubbed her thumb over the red skin and raised her eyes to Reinette.

"Have you noticed that all we've done in the last week is fight with each other?" Zoe asked, and all of the fire and irritation was gone from her voice. She sounded pleasant and conversational; it caused the fight to leave Reinette like water draining from a bath.

"It's been difficult to miss," she said, sounding weary. "I don't wish to fight with you."

"Nor I you," Zoe said, pressing her thumbs into the sole of her foot and working it in small circles; a small sigh left Reinette's mouth. "I haven't said it before so I'll say it now. Thank you for coming for me. I would have died if you hadn't."

Reinette eyed her. "You're welcome."

"I'm not what you dreamed of when you were younger, am I?"

"Not really, no," Reinette admitted with a soft huff of laughter. "You're far stupider for one."

Zoe laughed. "That I am."

"And more reckless."

"I honestly feel like that can't have been a surprise for you considering how we met," Zoe said. "On our second meeting, I wrestled with a clockwork android in your bedroom and took it through the fireplace."

"True," Reinette agreed, and there was a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Perhaps then I should say that you are more _human_ than I expected."

"Well...nothing I can do about that, I'm afraid," she said, looking down at the foot in her hands. "And I never pretended to be perfect."

"No, you didn't," Reinette said softly. "That was my own fault there."

"I'm sorry I disappointed you."

"You haven't," she said, tugging her foot free and shifting to sit closer to her. "Yes, I had this idealised version of you in my mind. For most of my life, you've been this – this guardian angel of sorts who watches over me, and slips in and out of my life. When you chose to remain here in order to save my life, I felt that only supported my belief in how I thought of you. And yet I found out that you are more flesh and blood than I could have possibly believed and that's not a disappointment, Zoe, it's a relief."

Zoe raised her eyebrows. "A relief?"

"Yes, of course, a _relief._ " She seized Zoe's hands that had regained their strength and vitality; her skin no longer wrinkled but elastic and smooth. "Don't you see? If you were indeed this god from the heavens, how could I possibly live up to that? Or live with it even? But you are flesh and blood, mortal and human, and that is much better."

"Is it?" Zoe asked, vulnerability shining through. "I know that you want more from me."

"I will take what you are willing to give me," Reinette assured her. "Nothing more."

Zoe swallowed hard and looked at her in a way that she so rarely did, seeming to shy away from eye contact for fear of what she would find. "Do you know why I left Versailles after Christmas?"

"I assumed that you were unhappy here," she said simply.

"Yes and no," Zoe said, and she tried to sit up straighter but grimaced at how difficult it was to do that. Reinette released her hands and stacked some pillows behind Zoe's back. She sat back with a breath of relief. "Thank you. The truth is...I left because I was afraid of what would happen if I stayed."

"I don't understand."

"I think I love you," Zoe said. Reinette gaped at her, a most unattractive look on her but it was clear that she was taken aback. "Or at least I think I want to love you, and maybe that's worse, or better, I don't know."

"Zoe..." Reinette breathed. "Love is not something to fear."

"Isn't it?" She asked, pained. "Because what if I do love you? Do I leave you behind when the Doctor comes for me? Do I leave him and my family to stay with you? Do I take you with me and interfere in how history is supposed to unfold? And then, on the other side of it, what if I don't love you? What if the feelings I felt over Christmas were nothing more than proximity to someone I like and care about? What if I get it wrong and began a relationship with you only to realise too late the truth? What then?"

"No one knows the answers to those questions," Reinette told her, struggling to find the right words as she felt knocked sideways by their conversation. "Love isn't something you can plan, or predict. Love just is, and we must experience it in whatever form it comes to us. It is no secret that I love you. You have been the great love of my life, no matter what you feel in return. Do you think I fell in love with you knowing where it lead me?"

"No, of course not," Zoe said. "But what choice did I give you? I was like a fairy appearing in your childhood and then your life. How could anyone not be drawn to that?"

"There's always a choice," she replied. "And I took a chance. Even though I knew you were but a fleeting presence in my life and I never knew when I would see you again, I loved you as truly as I knew how. And I love you all the more now that I know you are imperfect. That love will remain irregardless of how you feel for me."

"I didn't know what to do," Zoe admitted tiredly, closing her eyes in an effort to steady the tumult of emotions whirling around inside of her like a storm. "Before I met you, I thought..."

"What?" Reinette prompted when she failed to finish her sentence. "What did you think?"

"For a moment..." she began again, opening her eyes once more. "I thought the Doctor and I...that we might...but I was fooling myself. I let myself get swept up in our time alone together, and I started thinking, and hoping..." she shook her head, annoyed with herself for the crush she had nursed on the Doctor in those last few days together. "I realised I was doing to you what he did to me, unintentionally on both our parts, and so I left."

"You ran away," she corrected.

"Like a coward," Zoe laughed wetly, passing a hand across her eyes. "I'm sorry. You deserve so much better when you've been nothing but kind and patient with me."

Reinette reached for her and took her hand in her own. "I know you've found it difficult to settle here."

"I would have found it difficult anywhere," she replied and sighed heavily, enjoying the sensation of Reinette smoothing her thumb over her the valleys of her knuckles. "I know that I've treated you badly, and I'm sorry for that. If you can find it in yourself to forgive me, I'd like us to try again."

Reinette blinked slowly at her. "Try again how?"

"I'm done with running," Zoe said, a welcome feeling of certainty settling within her because Reinette was right: love was a choice, it was making the decision to love and deal with everything that came with it. "I'm done with being afraid. I'm done with not living my life because I'm constantly waiting for the sound of the TARDIS around every corner. This is my life now, and this is my home too. I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that I want you in it no matter shape it takes."

Tears threatened to spill from Reinette's blue eyes. "And when your Doctor returns?"

"Then he can make himself useful and help me figure out how to keep you and the TARDIS," she said, feeling the beginnings of confidence again; she had missed the feeling of being able to take on whatever came her way. "Because I want both. And I know it's selfish, and I may not be able to do it, but I'm going to fight for it...fight for you, if you'll have me."

"Oh, my darling," Reinette breathed, and her heart felt so full. "Of course I'll have you. It's all I've wanted."

Zoe wiped at her wet face. "You'll have to be patient. I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to relationships. I've never had one before."

"I can guide you," she laughed, glowing from the inside out. "And we can learn together, for I have never had a relationship with a woman before."

"Here's hoping it's easier than with men," Zoe said, earning a laugh from her, and their fingers tightened on each other. "But I still do have to deal with the children disappearing in Paris. I can't turn my back on that."

"Nor should you," Reinette agreed. "Allow me to help you. Together, we can deal with whatever is happening."

"It'll be dangerous."

"I've seen the world you're from," Reinette told her. "I know of the demons you fight. I'm not afraid."

"Maybe you should be."


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

 _July 2nd 1760, Paris_

"Are you sure about this?"

"Having second thoughts?"

"I had those a long time ago," Reinette whispered. "These are now tenth thoughts."

Zoe snorted, mouth curling in amusement. She glanced back at Reinette. "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?"

"Your lack of faith is a little hurtful."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just...nervous," Reinette said, anxiously twisting the handkerchief Zoe had given her in an effort to stop her squeezing the bones in her hand as she needed both hands for what was coming. "And scared. I'm very scared right now."

"You might want to save being very scared for later," Zoe advised, but not without sympathy. She remembered how terrified she had been during that run through the hospital with the Doctor when they had first met. "This bit here? This is the non-scary bit. We'll just be talking to them, nothing to worry about. You're good at talking to people."

"I know," she said, accidentally tearing a hole in the handkerchief, and her finger immediately went to worry it larger. "It's just this is a little outside of my area of expertise. I'm good at talking to people in salons, or at court, but this is...well..."

"A tavern of ill-repute?" Zoe asked with an amused expression on her face, and Reinette's fear faded in the face of her gentle teasing.

"Unlike you, I don't tend to haunt such establishments."

"Neither do I.," she laughed softly so as not to be overheard by anyone. "I much prefer drinking in private or with you." She glanced out from behind their discreet hiding spot that was located down a dank and odorous alley before she turned her full focus on Reinette. "You don't have to do this. You can wait here. This is something I can do by myself."

"No, I want to come," Reinette replied, bunching the handkerchief in her fist. "I want to help. I'll be fine. Besides, as excellent as your French has become the idiosyncrasies still elude you."

"I'm never going to get French colloquialisms." She shook her head forlornly. "Fine, but if it starts to get a little rowdy, stay behind me."

Reinette nodded. Once Zoe was sure that she was ready, they stepped out from the alley and into the street. In an attempt to make Reinette fit in, she was wearing some of Zoe's clothes that had been altered to fit her bust, and her hair was tied back into a simple bun but no amount of effort could make Reinette look like anything other than she was: an incredible beautiful and _wealthy_ woman. Zoe was torn about bringing her but, ever since their conversation the other day, she had promised to be more open with Reinette and that, apparently, included bringing her along on her mission to find out what was happening to the children disappearing from the poverty-stricken districts of Paris.

Zoe had a friend, a man who had come over from Calcutta some years before and who was raising his young daughter alone after the death of his wife from malaria, and his daughter was the one who brought the missing children to her attention. Rajkunwar told her that her friends were going missing and that there was a man they called the Shadow Man who coaxed children away with him on the promise of free food or money. She couldn't describe his face as he was always cloaked in the shadows, but he was tall and broad with a large hat atop his head. He never spoke, he only gestured; the children, desperate from hunger, went with him.

Over a period of six months around one hundred children had gone missing.

It was a number easily overlooked in Paris for the simple reason that people generally didn't care about the type of children that were going missing. It filled Zoe with concern though, and once she told Reinette her concerns were shared. She was hoping for the best but the sinking feeling in her gut made her believe that it was the worst. She turned what facts she knew over and over in her mind – thinking and planning – whilst she went through her recovery with a renewed spirit. It helped that she and Reinette were finally on the same page with each other about their relationship, and Zoe felt happier than she had in a long time.

Part of her wondered whether Reinette was right and her belief in alien involvement was a by-product of her fevered mind; there was enough human evil around that she didn't need to be ascribing alien motives to what might simply be an awful human act. Still, there was something about the situation that wasn't sitting right with her. No bodies were found, not that the police were really looking but the network of informants she had created told her that the children simply disappeared and no trace of them was found again. The fact that nothing was left behind set her alien detector pinging in her mind.

"Careful," Reinette hissed, her hands grabbing the back of her cloak and sharply tugging her back just as a pail of piss and shit was flung from the top window of a building, splattering the ground where Zoe would shortly have passed under.

"Gross," she grimaced. "Thanks."

"I had no idea Paris was so filthy," Reinette whispered, a frown shadowed by the tip of her hood.

"Well, it's not like you ever go into the dirty areas of the city," Zoe replied. "So best not to dwell. Come on, just a little further."

In the pocket of her outfit, her hand was wrapped around the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, thumb rubbing against the edge of it in a comforting rhythm.

It was a piece of technology that connected her with her past and reminded her that it hadn't been a dream. When she first arrived in the 18th century, there wasn't a second she let it out of her sight. She slept with it clenched in her hand beneath her pillow but slowly, day by day, she started to ease up on it until she kept it in a drawer beside her and Reinette's bed. She rarely took it out once she put it away and hadn't actually used it since her failure at repairing the connection in the fireplace. There was little use for it in the past. She had only brought it with her because she was afraid of leaving it behind. She knew that it was a safety net for her; a connection to the Doctor, and a reminder that he was still out there.

The familiar hum when activated reminded her of the days in the TARDIS, and of running along behind the Doctor as they laughed and saved worlds and visited amazing places. That life felt so distant from her in that moment, but she handled the screwdriver as though the memory was ingrained in her muscles.

It was probably nothing.

Maybe.

At least probably an alien nothing.

If it was simply humans being awful, she could easily deal with that but part of her did hope that it wasn't. She felt guilty for even daring to tempt fate in such a way. It wasn't as though the people of 18th century Paris were well-equipped to deal with alien trouble, and all she had was a sonic screwdriver and her wiles. She still found herself hoping for something alien as something to remind her of the life that she would one day go back to.

She wove their way through the streets keeping her head down and concealed by the hood of her cloak, focusing on her booted feet to make sure they stayed out of the filth. Behind her, Reinette was performing an intricate dance to make sure that she remained as clean as possible but with little effect. Zoe glanced out from beneath her hood to stay on course towards the brothel that Mudit told her about. He had worked there when he first arrived in Paris with a starving daughter and the corpse of his wife, and he carried that shame within him. He hadn't wanted to tell her and only the fear that something might happen to Rajkunwar made him speak.

She led them beneath a filthy awning with a sign swinging from a metal hook, the name of the establishment painted in peeling letters. Before entering, she slipped her hand into her pocket and activated the sonic screwdriver, setting it to run continuously without her having to touch it.

"Here we go," she said under her breath to Reinette, who sucked in a sharp breath and nodded, before she pushed open the door to the tavern and stepped inside.

Night had only just fallen but the inside the brothel already reeked of sex, sweat and booze; the air felt close from the heat of the bodies that were packed within. It was dimly lit, and the floor was sticky with spills of alcohol and bodily fluids. There was a piano in the corner, and a man in a faded waistcoat was playing a jaunty tune at it whilst a prostitute leaning her painted, semi-nude body against it. People were clustered around the low tables; women draped themselves across the laps of men; and there was a low roar of noise from the laughter and bawdy conversation that was taking place. To her untrained eyes, it seemed to be a fairly popular brothel, and the prostitutes seemed to be more or less well cared for, if on the young side.

There was a large number of French militia who eyed them as they walked in. Reinette shifted closer to Zoe, resisting the urge to reach out and take her hands. She was used to the eyes of men on her, but their gazes were never so openly lecherous; she could feel them crawl across her skin. She kept her hood up as Zoe had requested and followed her to the bar, watching her move with confidence, her own hands coming up to lower the hood from her slightly tattered cloak. Her riotous curls made their appearance, and there was a slight murmur at the colour of her skin but no one seemed interested in her beyond the fact that she was a beautiful woman.

"Looking for a job, sweetheart?" The waitress, a woman with dark eyes and dark features with breasts spilling out over her dress, asked.

"Just two drinks," Zoe answered, sliding her money onto the bar: money greased wheels no matter what planet, what century, what situation. "And maybe some information."

"You can have the drink, but you won't get any information here," she said, taking the money and setting two drinks of indeterminate colour on the counter in front of them in mugs that looked as though they hadn't been washed in days. "Best if you just finish and go, sister."

"Should I be worried?"

"We women should always be worried," the waitress said with a shared, knowing look before leaving them to their drinks.

Zoe raised her drink to her mouth and took a sip. It took everything she had in her not to gag and spit it out across the counter. It was foul and strong enough to knock out an ox. It was worse than the vodka Jack got her to try once: hypervodka, he had called it. She now knew better than to drink anything Jack said was okay as that a sip of hypervodka was enough to give her a hangover for three days. She set her mug back down and turned in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. She had underestimated how much scarier it was to investigate and question without the reassuring presence of the Doctor who always had an escape plan up his sleeve or Jack who was more than willing to take a fist to the face if it meant his friends didn't have to. Since everyone was already paying attention to her, discretion was thrown out of the window, admittedly something she hadn't considered. Feigning casualness, she leant back against the bar, elbows propping her up; she stared at the men in turn, long enough for them to get uncomfortable.

Human.

Every last one of them.

 _Human._

"Do you see anything?" Reinette whispered, thumb pressing hard against the mug, not drinking it because it smelled foul and judging from the expression on Zoe's face tasted it as well.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," Zoe replied. "Although..." her eyes drifted over the painted prostitutes, "the taste in this establishment seems to run on the young side."

"I see that too," she said, hot anger gripping at her stomach at the thought of the poor children being made to do depraved acts simply because they were poor and, most likely, orphans. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Maybe, but not tonight," Zoe murmured as a young girl approached them, her face covered in make-up; she couldn't be more than eight or nine under the layer of make-up done to force an air of faux adulthood on her.

"Looking for company, beautiful?"

Reinette turned away, sick to her stomach.

"Here," Zoe said, voice loud and clear in the murmuring room that fell into silence when she spoke. She reached into her pocket and dropped some gold coins into the girl's hand. "Take the night off."

The girl took the coins with wide eyes. It was more money than she saw in an entire month. She held it to her chest, terrified but hopeful. Zoe gave a jerk of her head, and the girl scampered away into the night.

"Hey!" A tall, red faced man, with a chest and shoulders broader than she had ever seen on a human being before, stood. He dislodged the prostitute from his lap – a girl younger than the one Zoe had sent out the door. Her eyes narrowed at him in disgust. Immediately, she despised him. "What are you doing? You can't pay for them and tell them to leave."

"And yet, I just did," Zoe said. She heard the waitress draw in a sharp breath, either marvelling at her bravery or fearing her stupidity was about to get her killed. She withdrew a bag of gold she could ill-afford to gamble away and set it on the table. It settled with a loud, heavy _thunk_. All eyes were on it. "As a matter of fact, I do believe I'm going to pay to close this establishment tonight unless someone here answers my questions."

"We aren't talking to no Negro bitch."

"Well, isn't that lovely," Zoe said dryly, unimpressed with his lack of creativity. "You can either talk to me or I'll buy every single one of these lovely prostitutes for every night for the next year, and before you start wondering whether or not I can afford it, I'll tell you now that I'm funded by the king."

"King's whore." He spat on the ground between them, and Reinette stiffened at the words and the act.

"That's neither here nor there," she said calmly. Even though her heart was pounding and the blood was rushing through her veins, she found herself enjoying the situation. She had been spoiling for a fight for months. "Now. I have some questions about the children that have been disappearing from the streets. I've been told they're being funnelled through here and then never heard from again. Which one of you fine, upstanding gentlemen know anything about that?"

Silence descended on the room.

"Ah, I see," she said, pushing away from the bar and standing. She pocketed the gold she had never intended to part with. "Perhaps you're involved in it? What is it? Human trafficking? Sex slavery? Do be a dear and tell me, I don't actually have all night."

"It's none of your business, you black bitch," the red faced man spat at her, and he pulled his trousers higher up his hips.

Throughout their conversation, his erection had remained strong. She felt disgust crawl into her stomach at the overall sight of him and the knowledge he was getting excited by the conflict. Perhaps he enjoyed slapping his prostitutes around as well. The only way some men could get it up was to be cruel to someone weaker than them. He got into her face; his breathe reeked of cigarettes, alcohol, and the general staleness that was common to the century. Behind her, Reinette let out a small sound of fear. She convulsed, as though wanting to intervene, but her good sense kept her back at the bar.

"I'm making it my business."

He laughed and reached for her but she was quicker. She dodged to one side and rose up to curl her fingers into a fist, and she punched him in the throat, curling her fist exactly as Mickey had taught her. He dropped the ground, gasping and writhing. She looked up at the other men and tossed her hair from her eyes.

"Who's next?" She asked, and Reinette groaned softly behind her.

* * *

 _Later that night_

Zoe grunted in pain when she submerged her hand in a cleaning solution that was about 60% water to 40% alcohol. The sharp pain brought tears to her eyes, and she pressed her molars together, grinding them with a long groan as her body stretched and torso rose from her seat whilst she pressed her toes into the ground in an effort to combat the pain. She breathed deeply through her nose to ride out the dizzying wave, her breath coming short and desperate as she couldn't breathe properly. The alcohol-water mixture cleaned the wounds on her knuckles and slipped beneath her torn skin to sting clean the open tears. She felt sick and turned her head to the side, vision swimming a little, certain she was about to vomit the foul drink she had mistakenly imbibed in the bar. The cleaning solution was an old-school method but it was definitely effective at disinfecting wounds.

"Hand," Reinette said shortly, pulling up a chair to sit opposite her.

She draped a folded towel across her thigh and held out her hand with an air of exasperated patience. Zoe lifted her injured hand gratefully from the solution and extended it, dripping, to place in hers. She carefully dried it, and Zoe watched her movements: methodical and practised.

"You've done this before."

"Once or twice," Reinette replied, drying the moisture from her hand and dabbing a herby paste onto the wound to keep the infection at bay. Zoe's doubts about the efficacy of such a paste remained firmly within her mind, but she kept her lips sealed for fear of aggravating her. "My husband enjoyed brawls."

"Really?" Zoe asked, surprised. "I wouldn't have thought he would like fighting, at least with fists."

"It depended on how much he had had to drink," she said simply, and Zoe hummed a little; Reinette didn't speak much of her husband, the man she had divorced so she could become Chief Mistress to the king, but Zoe suspected there had been little love between them. "And he never liked the servants to tend to him in such a state. You know how men are."

"I have an inkling," Zoe replied with a small smile. Reinette met her eyes, her own mouth curving a little. "So what's the prognosis? Am I going to live? Ow!"

"Don't joke about that," Reinette said sternly, bandaging her hand tightly. "And you will be fine, but why you chose to have a bar fight when you are still recovering from _cholera_ I will never know."

"I didn't choose to fight –"

"You certainly did nothing to prevent the situation," she pointed out, and Zoe pressed her lips together, trying her hardest not to look amused as that was a sure fire way to have another argument. "Though I don't think those gentlemen would have been willing to talk either way."

"I doubt they were gentlemen," Zoe said, and she tested the flexibility of her fingers with a grimace. She wished she had paid more attention to the Doctor when he used his sonic screwdriver as she knew it was capable of knitting skin back together, but she was reluctant to experiment in case she accidentally blew her hand off. "Besides, we got what we needed."

"Did we?" Reinette asked, surprised, putting away the turmeric paste and cleaning her hands on the damp cloth. "Because it did not seem to me that you were able to get that much information given the way you were being thrown around."

"Hey!" She protested. "I won the fight, didn't I?"

"Define winning."

Zoe scowled at her. She had held her own reasonably well but only because her opponents were big, drunk, and fell hard when hit correctly. She hadn't been afraid of fighting dirty either. Her foot had become closely acquainted with many a man's genitalia that night just like Jackie had taught her and Rose when they were little and men started looking at them in their school uniforms. Whilst they were writhing on the floor in agony, and Reinette was ushering the younger prostitutes out of harms way, she was able to pull the story out of the stunned waitress and prostitutes who had remained to see the fight unfold in all of its glory. Zoe supposed it was unusual to see a woman throwing punches against anyone, even in a brothel.

She hoped she started a trend.

Haimanti, the waitress, had told her that for the last six months a man had been taking children off the streets and taking them up to Bastille Saint-Antoine, the prison that would be stormed by the revolutionaries in a few short decades. Everyone suspected it was for the usual purposes, so they remained quiet when the children stayed missing. They locked their doors and tightened their windows and told their girls and boys to keep their wits about them and if they saw a tall man shrouded in shadows to run and run fast. Some children though were desperate, or curious, or foolishly brave. Any one of the three was enough to see a child take the man's hand and walk off to an uncertain fate. Then there was the worse news that some parents sold their own children to the man on nights when he couldn't find one on the street. Gold exchanged hands across thresholds, and a child was carried away screaming. Haimanti said the soldiers knew something was amiss but even they didn't know exactly what was going on. Just that they had been told to keep a side door clear and to not approach it.

A gold coin sliding across the counter gave Zoe the exact location of the side door.

Reinette listened silently as Zoe recounted the information to her.

"It sounds like one of your stories," Reinette said eventually. "Just less thrilling."

"That's because we're only at the start of it," she said, hand throbbing. "Or the middle, I'm not sure yet. But all stories have an element of truth in them."

"Even yours?"

"Especially mine," Zoe said with a small smile. "You'll find out for yourself one day."

Reinette couldn't fight the smile that spread across her lips, but it fell soon enough when she remembered where they were and what they were doing. "Are you sure that this must be done by you?"

"The king's men are turning a blind eye to this," she said seriously, sitting up straighter to test the pull on her injured ribs and decided that it wasn't so painful she couldn't run if she needed to. "And it would take too long to get Louis's approval and/or assistance. There's nothing he could do that wouldn't be a giant, flashing warning to whoever is taking these children. I don't want to alert them that I'm coming."

"But –"

"Reinette," Zoe said, reaching for her hands. "Children are disappearing. They're being murdered or worse."

"So you intend to break into the Bastille?" Reinette asked, arching an elegant eyebrow. "It's a fortress, darling. It can't be done."

"Well..." she replied with a slight grimace. "Give it a few years and that place will be like Jericho."

"What?"

"Spoilers," Zoe said. "Don't worry about it. My point is, nothing is impossible, just highly improbable; and since I haven't been born yet, that's my raison d'être. I eat the improbable for breakfast."

"You have a croissant and coffee."

She rolled her eyes. "It's just a saying."

"Oh," Reinette said. "I still think it would be incredibly foolish to even attempt to break in, particularly when you don't actually know what is happening."

"I know enough," Zoe said, releasing Reinette's hands so that she could sit back and pick up the glass of wine, poured from a bottle that she had been surprised to find in her small, dilapidated flat. "I know that there are men and women who sell their own children to a faceless man in the streets. Those children are never seen again once they enter the Bastille. That is more than enough for me to go in there."

"Why do you this?" Reinette asked her curiously, eyes flickering across her face trying to understand her. "I've often wondered why you helped me when I was a child, and then later as well. I was no one to you, just as these children are no one; yet, you would risk your life for them without a moment's hesitation. Why do you do it?"

Zoe didn't answer immediately. A blithe, trite response leapt to her lips, but she suppressed it because it was a question that deserved a proper answer. She thought over why she did what she did. Part of it was the thrill. She was self-aware enough to realise that she liked the adrenaline that came with the mystery and unknown danger. Another part of it was because she knew that it was what the Doctor would do if he was there, and she wanted his good opinion of her. The larger part of it though was that she understood that she was able to do things other people weren't because of her previous experience.

"If a person can do something to help," Zoe began slowly, thinking as she spoke. "But they don't, then the thing that happens – the bad thing – is because of them just as much as it is because of whoever orchestrated it." She frowned into her wine glass. "That sounds a little egotistic, I suppose."

"A little," Reinette admitted. "But I think I understand. You can't stand by and do nothing when you think you can help."

"Yeah," she said with a small nod. "You're right though. This isn't smart, and it is possibly fatal, but that doesn't mean it shouldn't be done. What's happening is wrong: you know that, and I know that. That means it is my duty to do something about it if I can. It's my duty to stand up and make a decision and try to do some good for people who can't help themselves."

Reinette's eyes looked a little glassy. "Have you always been this brave?"

"No," she admitted with a small smile, mind touching on the memory of Downing Street and her tears there. "It's what travelling with the Doctor does to you. He has this effect on people."

"A remarkable man, your Doctor," Reinette decided. "Though, I still don't know if you're simply foolish or brave."

Zoe leaned back in her threadbare armchair and laughed. "It's amazing how often those two coincide."

"So what are we going to do?" She asked, sitting up straighter.

"This doesn't have to be _we_ , Reinette," Zoe said. "It can just be me."

"Nonsense," she said. "Where you go, I go. And if the Doctor is able to fix it so that I can accompany you on your travels, I suppose this is a good place to start, is it not?"

"I suppose so," Zoe replied even as she felt a tight knot of worry in her chest about the prospect of taking Reinette into danger. Her own life she was careless with, but Reinette's was precious to her. "It'll be dangerous."

"Oh, I expect that."

"We might die."

"We might not."

"I can't promise you won't be changed by it."

"Here's hoping," Reinette said lightly, and Zoe let out a huff of laughter.

"And you think _I'm_ mad."

* * *

 _July 3rd 1760, Paris_

They had to wait for the rest of the night and the following day to pass before they could make their move as breaking and entering into the Bastille was best done at night. The temporary reprieve also gave Zoe the chance to catch a few hours sleep and let her battered, still-sick body recovery a little. She lay down on her sad, rickety bed and placed her head in Reinette's lap whose fingers worked their way through the tangled curls with an absent-mindedness that Zoe enjoyed as she was lulled to sleep. They spent the day together in the city,once Zoe was awake, and Reinette was fascinated by a glimpse into lives that she only ever saw from a distance. For an aristocratic woman who had shipped the responsibilities of child rearing off to a fleet of servants, she was a natural with children and enjoyed taking their grubby little hands to play their unfathomable games that Zoe never quite understood.

"There's nothing to it," Reinette replied in response to Zoe's observation that she was good with children. "Children are lovely. They're like blank pages that fill with colour when they are happy."

"I never really got kids, to be honest," Zoe admitted. "Even when I was a kid, I wasn't really comfortable around them."

"You were probably too smart," she said kindly. Zoe snorted, the backs of her fingers brushing against Reinette's; she wanted to take her hand but stymied the urge given that they were in the 18th century.

"Or standoffish," she said. "I'm not as good as my sister at making friends. She just throws herself in, which explains her running away with the Doctor."

"So did you."

"I did not!" Zoe protested. "I said no the first time he asked, and then made him wait four months so I could finish my education first. Hardly running away."

"Perhaps a sensible and well-planned running away then," Reinette teased, and Zoe nudged her side, warm with affection for her.

They set out for the Bastille two hours after nightfall, and after much disagreement between them, Reinette conceded to wearing a pair of Zoe's trousers and a long coat as her dress was not conducive to running if there was trouble. They stopped at the brothel and spoke with Haimanti who informed them that the Shadow Man had been seen again but he hadn't yet returned to the Bastille. Zoe thanked her for the information with some gold coin and a warning to keep the girls in before she took Reinette's hand, the cover of darkness and urgency the perfect excuses to finally hold it, and hurried them towards the Bastille.

In her time living in the city, Zoe had discovered that the Bastille formed something of a boundary between the aristocrats in Le Marais in the old city and the poor, densely populated working-class area of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine in the north of the city where she had made her home outside of the palace. Very few people crossed the line unless they were servants going to work in the homes of the wealthy and privileged. Zoe had been in Le Marais before and thought it was pretty and a welcome reprieve from the poverty of the Faubourg with its built up areas, busy workshops, and stench that never seemed to disappear: sweat, faeces, and despair. So, by approaching the Bastille from the northern side, no one paid them any attention.

"Oh," Zoe said, looking up at the Bastille. "That's bigger than I remember. Does it look big to you? It's very big."

"It's a prison and a fortress," Reinette said. "Of course it's big."

"Right, of course, this way then."

She led Reinette around the side of the building to a comparatively smaller wall than the rest, and she looked around them for signs of any guards. There were none, and she removed the coil of rope that she had placed under her coat and told Reinette to wait for her in the shadows. Reinette watched in amazement as Zoe, with the rope over her shoulder and the sonic screwdriver between her teeth, set about scaling the wall of the Bastille. The wall itself was flat and smooth but the vibration of the sonic was just enough to make room in the material used to glue the bricks together to give her hand and foot holds when she needed them; although, she became exhausted halfway up. She felt the world spin for a moment as a dizzy spell caught her in its grips; she held onto the wall tightly, Reinette calling her name softly in concern.

She really was quite sick.

Maybe she would take it easy in the next few days once everything was taken care of.

Once the dizziness passed, she finished scaling the wall and sat atop it, straddling it with her legs. She tied the end of the rope to a metal torch holder on the other side and tested it before tossing the rest of it back down to Reinette. Zoe had already talked through the plan with her; whilst she was onboard with it, she was still nervous. Zoe doubted that she had even so much as climbed a tree in her life, let alone a prison wall. Reinette gripped hold of the rope as she had been shown and put her feet in the footholds that Zoe had created on her way up. On top of the wall, Zoe pulled and immediately realised that she had underestimated both her strength and how much Reinette weighed.

"Fuck me sideways," she grunted, swearing in English. She knew it would be better to just keep going; if she took a break, she was going to lose all momentum.

She was reminded of a principle of physics that Jack had mentioned to her in that _things in motion stay at motion, things at rest stay at rest._

"Zoe," Reinette said, her voice tinged with worry and a little panic as she neared the top and the drop below her became daunting. There was no need to be worried as Zoe reached out and grabbed hold of her, pulling her the rest of the way. Reinette sat atop the wall and held on tightly to her, finding the height to be more than a little alarming. "That was awful."

"You did great," Zoe said breathlessly, her arms and shoulders aching from the effort, but she tossed the rope down the other side. "And going down is always easier. You can control your fall."

"It's very high," she worried, peering down into the darkness.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Zoe promised, blinking the spots of light from her eyes. "Put your arms around my shoulders and hold on tightly, okay?"

Reinette did as she was instructed, enjoying the closeness only briefly before Zoe pushed them off the edge. They fell faster than intended due to their combined body weight. Zoe's palm burned as the rope pulled against it, but she was just able to control their descent. Her knees buckled and teeth clacked together under the impact of hitting the ground. She let Reinette go and stumbled, but she kept her footing. She immediately dropped the rope and winced, shaking her hand out as though that would help with the rope burn.

"That was exhilarating," Reinette said, leaning against the wall with her hand pressed against her chest. "Is this normal for you?"

"Kind of," Zoe admitted, feeling more like herself than she had done in a long time. She grabbed hold of Reinette and pushed her to the ground as two prison guards walked past on their patrol. "Lots of soldiers out tonight."

"Perhaps there are making sure that the Shadow Man is undisturbed," Reinette suggested, peering up from beneath the press of Zoe's body.

"Good point," Zoe said, and Reinette flushed with pleasure at her praise and the fact that she was kneeling over her. "You see that door over there?"

Reinette twisted her head and looked but she couldn't make it out. "Where?"

Zoe pointed to a darkened alcove, and she was just able to make out a door. "We're heading there. Keep close to the wall and to me, but move quickly."

Reinette did as she was told and stuck close to her. She was so close that she stepped on the back of Zoe's boot and pitched her forward. She would have sprawled on the ground had she quickly not caught her around the waist. Zoe rolled her eyes and hissed at her to be _not that close_. Embarrassed, she fell back a little. They moved quickly across the lawn. Zoe seemed accustomed to running over unfamiliar terrain, and she struggled to keep up with her. She didn't spend any time running as it was considered juvenile and unseemly, but she forced her legs and feet to do what they must. They dashed between trees and pressed themselves low behind a copse of bushes when another set of soldiers passed close by. By the time they reached the shadowed alcove, Reinette was out of breath and Zoe seemed unruffled by the exertion. Zoe pointed the sonic screwdriver at the door, and the latch gave way with a click. Before she knew it, they were inside the Bastille proper.

The air was cool inside the building, and the smell of old masonry and dust coated the air. The corridor they emerged into was unlit and dusty cobwebs clung to the blackened torches, which seemed to please Zoe; at least, judging from the way she rolled onto the balls of her toes and fell back again. She worked the screwdriver with her thumb, and a bright blue light shone from it and cast the corridor in an eerie glow. Spiders scuttled up the walls. A few mice squeaked, their tiny nails scratching across the stone floor as they disappeared back into the darkness. Zoe glanced back over her shoulder at Reinette and gave her a grin before she led them deeper into Bastille, the screwdriver held aloft by her head.

Reinette swallowed back her fear and followed Zoe.

"Tell me again what we're looking for," she whispered to the back of Zoe's head in an attempt to distract herself from the fear that pulsed through her and coated her tongue with a thin film of adrenaline.

"Anything out of the ordinary," Zoe said unhelpfully as everything was out of the ordinary for Reinette. She missed her apartments in Versailles with a fierce ache; she longed to go home and, for the first time, truly understood Zoe's homesickness.

"How will we know?"

"Because it'll look out of the ordinary," she replied. Though she couldn't see Zoe's face, she could perfectly picture the way her eyes rolled when she said that. "And will you relax? You're making me nervous."

"I can't help it," she said, palms clammy. "I've never done this before."

"I know, and you're doing great," Zoe reassured her, reaching back with her free hand and Reinette clasped hold of it, the point of contact grounding her and making her feel braver than before. "Besides, you've dealt with weirder things."

"I suppose," Reinette agreed, tightening her grip on Zoe's hand.

Woman appeared in the fireplace? That's fine.

Clockwork robots wanting to cut her head off to fix their future spaceship? Scary but okay.

Fireplace woman from the future trapped in the 18th century with no way home? Welcome home.

Zoe was right. She had dealt with weirder things before, and that was surprisingly a comfort to her.

They were following a faint energy signature that the screwdriver had only just picked up. It was just faint enough that it slipped under the radar during the initial scan, and it was only because Zoe fussed with the screwdriver, certain that aliens were involved, that she was able to pick it up: enough to know the energy signature was there, but not enough to determine if it was human or alien. Although, she couldn't imagine what a human would be doing to create such an energy signature. She really hoped it was alien though. She had been dealing with human follies and greed for long enough that she wanted the change of pace.

"Here," Zoe said with a whisper. They paused outside a heavy wooden door that, when she touched her fingertips to it, was both hot and sticky. A distinctly unpleasant combination, she decided as she wiped her fingers on her shirt. She hovered her ear above the wood but heard nothing. She stuck the screwdriver against the door and ran another scan. It was definitely where the energy signature was coming from. "This is the right place."

Reinette shifted from one foot to the other behind her. "Do we knock?"

"No, we don't knock," said. "We don't want what's in there to know that we're out here."

"They're going to know when we open the door though."

"Well, yes, that's a good point," she conceded, and a small flicker of amusement appeared on Reinette's face she stepped back at Zoe's gesture.

The door was unlocked when she carefully lifted the latch, testing it. She pulled the handle towards her and immediately stopped as the door screamed on its hinges. Her heart jumped in her chest, and Reinette physically jumped behind her, a gasp flying from her mouth; her hand clamped down on Zoe's arm, afraid. Zoe held her breath and listened. There were no sounds of feet running towards them, so she gripped the door again and pulled with both hands. It shifted only a little, but enough for her to stick her fingers between the frame and the stone wall. Reinette moved to help her, gripping the door hands gripped the door above her head, and on the count of three, they both pulled.

It screeched across the floor like wet rope being tightened, and they stopped when there was enough space to slip through.

She glanced back at Reinette, her face barely visible in the darkened corridor. "Wait here."

"Absolutely not," she said, afraid of being left alone and afraid of Zoe entering the room alone, so she followed her into the dark room.

The room was dark, and it took a moment for their eyes to adjust. The only light that came in was through the crack in the door and the glow of her screwdriver. She wasn't sure what she expected to find but a small black box on the floor wasn't it. Curiously, it was the only thing not covered in dust. She crouched down and carefully waved the screwdriver over it. She glanced at the readings and caught herself before she punched the air excitedly, aware that Reinette was watching her.

Definitely alien.

She grinned widely to herself so Reinette couldn't see her face, and she did a weird little shuffle dance of celebration that made her fall onto her behind in the thick piles of dust.

She sneezed.

"What is it?" Reinette asked, keeping her voice to a whisper.

"Allergies," Zoe replied, drawing her sleeve under her nose. "Dust tends to set me off."

"Not - no. The box, Zoe. What's in the box?"

"Oh," she said. "Don't know yet. Keep an eye out."

She stuck the screwdriver in her mouth and carefully picked up the black box; a square patch, free of dust, was left behind when she did so. There was no obvious entrance to the cube. It looked as though it had been formed organically, which was strange; although, perhaps a 3D printer could have achieved the same smooth design. She ran her fingers over the edges, curious and testing. They were sharp enough that she felt her skin give a little under the pressure; if she pressed harder, they would break her skin. There was no writing and no marks. There wasn't even a scratch on the surface.

"What are you?" Zoe muttered around a mouthful of screwdriver. "Where did you come from, huh?"

She tucked her legs beneath her so that she could sit cross-legged on the floor, and she rested the cube in her lap. Hunched over it, she ran a deeper scan with the screwdriver and resorted to poking at it with her finger. To her surprise, that worked. Her ankle was illuminated by a blue light, and she turned the cube over so that she could look at it. A small screen had revealed itself in a language that she didn't recognise. She ran the screwdriver over it and read the translation as it ran through the matrix, but she didn't fully understand what she was seeing. It was a mathematical formula, she knew that much. If she was reading it correctly then it looked as though it was calculating energy output in regards to organic input.

"What?" Zoe murmured curiously, carefully moving through the screen, which was a helpful touchscreen. It gave way under her finger. "What are you up to, my little alien box?"

It seemed that every two days there was a new record. The weight varied by a few pounds here and there but otherwise it remained fairly consistent. Something organic was fed into the system and the energy was transferred somewhere else. She searched through the database and found that it transferred into orbit, which meant that there was a ship there. She didn't know what ship or what species, but whoever they were needed the energy that could be retrieved from converting organic matter into energy; not that it gave them a lot. If their ship was like the SS Madam de Pompadour then filling the tank would take years, if not decades.

"But what are you using?" She asked, frowning down at the screen and trying to find the information when all of a sudden she froze. "Oh. Oh, no."

"What is it?" Reinette whispered. "What's wrong?"

Zoe reached out and took hold of a handful of dust and lifted it up, letting it fall from between her fingers. A sick feeling ripped through her and with a heavy heart, she scanned the dust all around her. She closed her eyes.

They were converting the children.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter Thirty-Six**

Upon realising exactly what she was sat in, Zoe leapt to her feet with an explosion of horror, brushing herself down vigorously. Only when she reigned in her own disgust was she able to explain to Reinette that the missing children were being converted into energy and all that remained of them was the dust around them: a graveyard for the forgotten children of Paris. She tried desperately to brush the dust off her, Reinette's hands joining in to aid her, and she couldn't help but wonder if they had felt any pain when they were being atomised and converted; she wondered if they cried out for their mothers, long dead or just uncaring, as they were being killed. It sickened her, and she fought through the swell of righteous fury that pounded through her body.

"How?" Reinette asked, looking as sick as Zoe felt, her hand pressed flat against her stomach as though hoping to keep its contents from spilling out onto the remnants of the children under their feet.

"I don't know," Zoe said, and a slow anger began to unfurl throughout her, replacing the fury that had burned so fiercely for moments. Her fingers trembled around the screwdriver, and she tightened her grip. "But I'm going to find out."

They both heard the door open in the distance and the slow, careful footsteps of the person, or thing, leading another child to its death. Reinette shot a terrified glance at her, and Zoe pulled her back so that she was positioned behind her, Zoe's body forming a shield. She gripped the screwdriver tighter in her fist; she breathed in deep and slow, wishing that the Doctor was with her. Or Jack. She would happily have just Jack at her shoulder if it meant that she wasn't the one responsible for stopping the murders. The weight of the responsibility pressed down on her, and her mouth turned dry and her throat clenched painfully at everything that could go wrong.

There was a pause outside the room as the Shadow Man took note of the open door before the footsteps continued towards them, growing louder and louder. A tall, dark shape appeared in the doorway: far too tall to be human. No human born in the 18th century had good enough nutrition to gain the height the man was, even in the royal courts where food was plentiful and no one ever went hungry. A child was ushered inside. The child could barely be older than nine or ten, and it had a hungry, desperate look about it. It was difficult to determine the gender in the dark and because of the filth that caked them. Zoe wondered what they had been promised: a hot meal or something more.

Something to make it worth the risks to walk away with a stranger, that was for sure.

"That's far enough," Zoe said from the corner where she and Reinette were concealed in the shadows. Reinette drew a sharp breath when Zoe stepped forward and raised the sonic screwdriver so it was levelled at the man's chest. To her credit though, Reinette moved into the light with her even though she would rather do absolutely anything else. Zoe tossed a gold coin at the child who caught it with fumbling, desperate fingers. "Run, kid. _Now._ "

The child looked between the dark stranger and Zoe, uncertain and scared. Fortunately though, their self-preservation kicked in and they ran away, the pounding of their feet fading until silence remained.

"You have cost me energy, human," the creature said, his voice was strangely distorted as though speaking through a mask.

"This is a Level 5 planet," Zoe said icily. "You're in violation of the Galactic Charter."

Its head tilted to one side, a grotesque parody of humans. "You are not human."

"Yes, I am," she said. "And I speak for this planet when I tell you to leave."

"No."

"You will leave or I will make you leave," Zoe warned him. Reinette stiffened with tension at her side. "You've been killing children on this planet to turn them into energy. Why?"

"We need it."

"Why children?"

"They are unnoticed."

"Well, I noticed them," Zoe said. "And it's over now. You will leave this planet and this solar system, and you'll never return. Do you understand me?"

"We need fuel."

"Find it somewhere else," she said, and her stomach squirmed with guilt at making them another planet's problem but her options were limited. There was really only so much she could do without the Doctor. "You won't get any more children here."

"No."

He took a step forward and pressed something on his wrist. Zoe's eyes widened in alarm, and Reinette reached for her, grabbing hold of her elbow, before they were teleported off the Earth and onto the ship in orbit.

They materialised on the bridge of a large and dark spaceship. It reminded her of the bridge of the Enterprise from the Star Trek film that would come out in 2009; the Doctor once made the mistake of mentioning it to her, and she wouldn't let him rest until she had watched it, much to his regret. The crew were seated at their stations, and the captain was sat in the command chair. At least Zoe assumed they were the captain. It was difficult to tell as they all looked like large cockroaches. The creature behind her rippled and removed its disguise. She tried very hard not to react at being so close to something that very closely resembled cockroaches on a massive scale.

She had hated cockroaches ever since Rose had collected as many as she could and put them into her school backpack in order to get her back for using her make-up to experiment with. Her scream had woken the entire floor, and Jackie had had to push people away from the door, embarrassed, before she turned her ire on her eldest daughter.

Next to her, Reinette was doing an admirable job of not appearing flustered, though Zoe could hear her breathing change, the only sign that she was taken aback by what had happened. Zoe took hold of her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Her grip in return crossed the line into painful but she didn't let go

The beings spoke in a unusual clicking language that was soon overlaid by French, although she heard a strange echo of English, Chinese, Russian, and other Earth languages as well. She inferred that it wasn't just Paris they were taking the children from, but globally.

"You are interfering with our plans, human."

Zoe's eyebrows climbed on her forehead.

"Zoe," she corrected, voice calm and friendly to conceal the uncertainty that swept through her. Without the Doctor, she felt wildly out of her depth but she had walked into the situation with her eyes wide open and only had herself to blame. "I'm Zoe Tyler. This is Reinette Poisson. Say hi, Reinette."

"Good evening," Reinette said politely, her voice smooth and focused in a manner that Zoe envied.

"Commander Sh'liak," the commanding officer replied with a name that Zoe would struggle to pronounce and a tone of voice that came across the translator as humouring. "Of the Alfasian Order."

"That sounds delightfully militaristic," Zoe commented, looking around the bridge and taking in the shadowed consoles and the serious air. "What are you doing in this solar system?"

"I do not have to answer your questions."

"You're taking children from my planet, killing them, and converting them into energy," Zoe said, voice thick with warning. Reinette's hand convulsed in hers. "You'll answer whatever question I ask you. What are you doing in my solar system?"

Commander Sh'liak observed her in silence. Its numerous legs folded across its body to touch each other. It was like a ripple in a pond. Zoe held eye contact and her silence. "We are on a mission of exploration."

"And do your missions of exploration normally include killing children?"

"These are extenuating circumstances," Sh'liak replied. "Our engines are in need of repair. We do not have enough fuel for it."

She made a show of looking around the bridge.

"I count sixteen of your people here," she said. "Why are you not using them instead of my children?"

"They are my crew," it replied. "And I am not a monster."

"Yet you would take children from my planet and kill them in order to fuel your ship?" Zoe asked. "Forgive me if I believe you a monster."

"Our research into this planet indicates that humans are not aware of life outside their tiny borders," Sh'liak said. "How is that you know?"

Zoe thought quickly, mind racing as she weighed the odds. In a surge of desperate panic, she latched onto the only plan that she felt would work.

"I'm not from here."

A muscle around Reinette's eye twitched but she otherwise didn't react.

"You are not of this world?" It asked, interestedly. "Where are you from?"

Her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips. She missed her faithful tube of chapstick that ran out shortly after she had arrived.

"Gallifrey," Zoe said, and it was as though she had dropped a bomb into the middle of the bridge.

The attitude of casual condescension and mild humour transformed into fear quicker than the space between her heartbeats. Sh'liak's legs unfolded, and the being that stood behind her scuttled away from her. Only Reinette remained unaffected.

"You are a Time Lord?" Sh'liak clicked at her, fear dripping from its antenna.

"Yes, I am," Zoe lied, pushing her shoulders back and raising her chin. She could do this. She could pretend to be the Doctor to save the children. She had seen him in action enough times, and she had mimicked him enough times to his face, teasing him about his glower and his sternness. "I see that you've heard of us."

"Enough to know that you all died."

"Not all of us," Zoe said. "Not me."

"How did you survive the destruction of your home world?" Sh'liak demanded, its segmented abdomen undulating with fear.

"As though you would understand the complexity of it," she said disdainfully, lifting the pattern of her voice from Reinette when someone, unaware of her brilliance and power, treated her as an insignificant woman. "All that matters here and now is that I have no home left to me, except for the one I have here: the home that you are threatening. Do you understand the wrath of a Time Lord, Commander? Do you understand the fury?"

Sh'liak stared at her, unblinking.

"The Daleks," she continued as she warmed to her theme. "You've heard of the Daleks, right?"

Judging from their reaction, they knew of the Daleks.

"They had a name for me on Skaro," Zoe said, her single human heart beating furiously in her chest. She was an awful liar, and she just hoped that they were believing her. "Do you know what they called me?" She waited and let the silence stretch. "The Oncoming Storm."

The Doctor's reputation clearly preceded him because the fear that ripped through the room at the mention of Gallifrey was ratcheted up at the title bestowed on him by the Daleks. She had laughed herself sick when he told her of the title, and he had borne her amusement with good humour because she had been aboard barely a month when Utah happened and they had their first real conversation. He mentioned it to her in passing and she couldn't help herself; she had just started to laugh, which eventually made his face crack until he joined her. She hadn't given much thought as to what it actually meant before; though, she certainly knew he wasn't as warm and friendly as he liked his friends to believe.

It made her wonder what the Alfasian Order had done in the past to fear the Doctor. In her experience, he was cuddly and gentle but she had seen him against the Daleks twice – once in Utah and once in London – and she knew how quickly he could change from the bumbling alien she adored into a hardened warrior with anger pulsing through him and eyes sharp as flint.

"You said your name is Zoe Tyler," Sh'liak clicked at her, its fear making the clicking sharper and louder.

"That's the name I've chosen to live amongst the humans," Zoe said, and Reinette squeezed her hand, sliding their fingers together so they were twined between them, and blood rushed back into her digits. "But you can call me the Doctor."

She tasted the fear in the air.

"This planet and its inhabitants are under my protection," she told them, every single eye on her, antennas quivering in her direction, and it felt as though everyone was holding their breath. "I trust you know what that means, Commander Sh'liak."

Her pronunciation of the commander's name wasn't that bad, and she would have patted herself on the back if she wasn't in the middle of the biggest lie she had ever told. She was bluffing child-killing aliens. She honestly hadn't known how she expected her night to go but, if she was honest, she wasn't even a little bit surprised.

Sh'liak twitched. It was an ugly sight as its whole body convulsed and pulsed, the softer flesh of its body breaking through its segmented abdomen like dough pressing through a sieve.

"Your threats do not solve my problem," it informed her but the tone was different – more careful and conciliatory than before.

"No, it doesn't," Zoe said lightly. "But I find it difficult to believe that the only source of energy you can find is limited to the children of this planet. You claim to be explorers. Explore the depths of your own minds for answers. You have twenty-four hours to come up with a solution, and if you're still in orbit of this planet by the time the day elapses...I _will_ destroy your ship."

The air around her felt cold and thick as Sh'liak clacked its tongue against the roof of its mouth and the crew began talking amongst themselves, beginning to do what they should have done months before; namely, work out a solution that didn't involve murder.

She also needed to do the same as she had absolutely no idea how to destroy a ship even if she wanted to. She looked to Reinette who was watching her in return and her eyebrows twitched. Reinette smoothed her thumb over the back of her hand and nodded her head softly, trustingly.

Zoe released the breath she didn't realise she was holding.

* * *

Unfortunately, Zoe didn't exactly think her twenty-four hour deadline through. The threat of her being the Doctor was enough to get them thinking as they should have done months ago, exploring new options and how to make them work with their technology, which was good, but she forgot that she was a human who needed to sleep and eat and, particularly, drink water. Reinette seemed mildly uncomfortable where she sat next to her in a vacated chair, resisting the urge to press buttons on the console as she took everything in with an open curiosity that Zoe admired.

She was handling everything very well, which wasn't a surprise given Reinette's history with the strange and alien.

"These seats are incredibly uncomfortable," Zoe murmured to Reinette, resisting the urge to shift and readjust herself again.

Reinette glanced at her in amusement. "Perhaps if you correct your posture, you will find the pain will decrease."

Zoe grunted at her but did as instructed and lifted herself from her slumped position so that she could straighten her spine. She blinked at the feeling of pressured relief. She wanted to press her knuckles into her spine but kept her hands on her lap.

"You okay?" She asked quietly, unwilling to draw attention to them just in case someone saw through her bluff.

"Aside from overwhelming terror, this is really quite fascinating," Reinette replied just as quietly, the clicking sounds of the language drifting across the bridge towards them. "When you spoke of alien species, I imagined creatures that resembled us. I did not expect... _this_."

"Nor did I," Zoe admitted. "This is something I haven't seen before but most lifeforms in the universe that have developed civilisations, technology, and space travel seem to follow the basic structure of a head, two arms, and two legs."

"It is very interesting," she said, watching the Alfasians discuss and theorise before she looked back to Zoe. "What was that place you spoke of? Gallafrey?"

"Gall _i_ frey," Zoe corrected. "It was a planet and the home of the Doctor."

"Was?"

"There was a war," she explained softly. "It's gone now. He's the only one of his species left."

Reinette stared at her. "That's awful."

"Yeah, it is," she agreed. "I think it's why he likes to travel with people. It stops him from getting lonely and sad."

Reinette reached for her and twined their fingers together again. "And their reaction to his name?"

"He's got a bit of reputation," she explained with a small grimace. "I've seen him do this before. He gets people to change their ways just through his presence. I thought it would be better than trying to do battle with them."

"The more I learn about your life, the more impossible it seems," Reinette informed her before catching herself with a small laugh. "Sorry, forgive me. _Improbable._ "

Zoe gave her a small wink that brought a becoming pink blush to her cheeks before they both settled back into their chairs to wait. She attempted to project an aura of confidence and casual laziness, but she didn't think she pulled it off. The effort helped to distract her from her discomfort at not having any water to sip on; her mouth felt grimy from the wine she had been drinking before their departure, and her head felt a little pained from the lack of proper hydration. To distract herself from the ache in the small of her back and her need for a glass of water, she took to discreetly looking at Reinette.

It was embarrassing it had taken her so long to figure her feelings towards the other woman out. It was also embarrassing that it had taken her a bout of cholera to actually embrace the fact that she had feelings for her. Reinette had been good in not teasing her but Zoe was certain she was amused by the whole thing; she made her living in emotions and never quite understood Zoe's British reticence towards discussing them and being open with her thoughts. To Reinette, Zoe was like a storm that couldn't be predicted as her emotions either exploded out of her in a chaotic mess or remained trapped within and couldn't be reached through either logic or pleading.

Zoe vowed to do better in the future.

Reinette deserved better.

As the hours passed and her deadline approached, Commander Sh'liak returned to the bridge, scuttling along the floor before rising to its full height in front of her. Reinette's shoulders stiffened in expectation, eyes sliding briefly towards Zoe who leaned back in her chair, ignoring the pain in her back, and she tilted her head back to look up at the commander.

"Well?"

"We have found a temporary solution that will allow us to leave your solar system and call for engineering aid from the Order," Commander Sh'liak said, and its anger at having to talk to Zoe was evident but it was tempered by the fear of who she claimed to be. "We are ready to leave orbit."

"Wonderful," Zoe said, rising smoothly from her feet, Reinette half a beat behind her. "Can you transport to the planet from out of orbit?"

"Yes."

"Then pull the ship out of orbit," Zoe ordered, and she would be lying if she said she didn't feel a little like Captain Picard in that moment. "And set a course out of this solar system."

The pilot looked back at its commander, having to turn its entire body to look for lack of a moveable neck. Commander Sh'liak gave the order, and the ship rumbled and hummed before it slowly started lifting out of orbit. Reinette looked uncertain but Zoe gazed out of the viewscreen that flickered to life before them, and she stared in wonder at her planet. It was beautiful: so green and blue. No matter that she was in the wrong time, she was home and that was what mattered.

"Reinette, look," Zoe said, and as Reinette turned her jaw went slack with awe.

"Is that -?"

"Earth," she said softly. "Home."

"It's so beautiful," she whispered, eyes glassy; Zoe smiled, watching her expression.

"We are out of orbit," Sh'liak informed her minutes later, breaking their quiet contemplation of their home world.

"Good," Zoe said. "Prepare to transport us back down to the planet to these coordinates."

Zoe fed the coordinates for a place just outside the city for them to transport to.

"Remember this," Zoe said to Sh'liak and its crew. "Remember the mercy that I've shown you today and use it wisely. If you ever return to this planet, if I ever discover that you're killing children again, you will not get a second chance. Have I made myself clear?"

Sh'liak made a weird clicking, grinding sound; she realised that it was grinding its teeth. "Yes."

"Good," she nodded. "Then energise."

"What?"

"Just beam us down," Zoe said with a sigh, and the bridge of the ship disappeared. She and Reinette appeared on well-travelled road that led back towards the Palace of Versailles, visible in the distance.

Fortunately, the road was empty, and Zoe tilted her face up to the night's sky and found the ship, a large bright speck amongst the stars, with her eyes. She took Reinette's hand, and they both watched as the ship moved further and further away from the Earth.

"There," Zoe said once it had passed the moon. "All done."

She turned to look at Reinette, and she was momentarily blinded by a halo of blonde hair before a warm mouth pressed against hers. There was a temporary flare of panic in her chest before she relaxed into the kiss and brought her hands up to cup Reinette's face, kissing her back with more enthusiasm than she had ever shown her before. When they parted, Reinette was breathing heavily and the headache that was pressing against Zoe's temples seemed inconsequential in comparison to how lovely Reinette looked.

"Well?" Zoe asked her, brushing the blonde hair from her face and tucking it behind one ear, her fingers lingering on the delicate pale shell before she let them drop back down. "Regret anything yet?"

Reinette laughed and leaned into her, their foreheads pressed together. "I'll never regret you."

"You say that now," she warned softly.

"I say that always," Reinette promised, their hands linked between them. "I feel... _powerful._ And brave. Is this what it's always like?"

"Not always," Zoe admitted. "But most of the time."

"I like it," she said with a smile. "I want to see more of the universe."

"We just need to wait for the Doctor," Zoe said. "And then I'll show you the stars, I promise."

Reinette kissed her again. Zoe let herself feel a pure happiness that she hadn't felt in years as she drew Reinette closer to her and kissed her on the side of the road.

Everything was finally going to be okay.

* * *

 _SS Madam de Pompadour, Dagmar Cluster, 5092_

 _Two Years Earlier, and Three Minutes Ago_

The Doctor stared at the broken time window before him. It was completely gone. The window into the past disappeared the moment Zoe did, sealing away the 18th century and leaving him with heavy hearts and a fearful feeling that stole over him. He gripped the edge of the computer console, and his fingers flexed before his knuckles turned white. She would be okay. She had to be okay. She was smart and resourceful, and she was with Reinette who he was certain would make sure that she would be okay. He had to sit down as his head felt heavy. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the flat surface of the console, breathing through his nose in an attempt to quell the thunderous pounding of his hearts. Everything had gone so horribly wrong that he wasn't sure where to start unpicking it. From Zoe's strange behaviour to his sharp jealously, they had been out of step the entire way, and now they were cut off from each other in a way they never had been before.

He didn't like it.

Not one bit.

He raised his head and looked around the empty ship. He hadn't been alone since he had met Rose in the basement of Henrik's department store, and the solitude pressed in on him. He wanted to reach out and grab hold of a familiar hand ( _Zoe's hand_ ) but there was no one there. He swallowed hard and slowly stood up and moved around the console to press his hand against where the time window had been. It was the cold metal of the bulkhead, and he barely resisted the urge to slam his fist into it. It wasn't the ship's fault that Zoe was gone from him. Anger stirred within him, but he bit it back. There was no sense in being angry at Zoe either, at least not yet. He would save his anger for when he saw her in person and he could yell at her then; although, he knew that he wasn't really angry at her, just worried sick.

He walked around the ship and checked every single time window but none were active. Not even the fireplace where Reinette had been only hours before.

He assumed from the lack of clockwork androids and the absence of Madam de Pompadour's head that Zoe had been successful in her efforts to stop them from killing her. It was the sole silver lining to the dark cloud of their day. It would serve him right for trying to extend his alone time with Zoe. Perhaps the universe was trying to tell him something, but it wasn't as though he had listened to the universe before so he felt no qualms about ignoring it this time. He rested his hand on the ornate fireplace and pulled at the candelabra repeatedly, hoping that it would open but it remained locked in place. He sighed and looked around again. He knew he needed to leave but he was hoping that Zoe would pull something magical from up her sleeve and come bounding through the fireplace with a grin on her face.

She did not.

"Dammit," the Doctor sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the time that Zoe would be separated from him. "Why does she have to be so brave? Why are they always so brave?"

The TARDIS hummed comfortingly in the back of his mind.

Light reflecting off of something caught the Doctor's eye, and he turned to find Zoe's phone sitting innocuously where she had left it. It seemed only fitting. She had taken his screwdriver with him, and he had her phone. He picked it up and tapped the screen. It lit up, and there were messages from Jack and Rose that slowly descended into incomprehensibility the drunker and drunker they got. A smile touched his lips at a picture of the two of them leaning into each other, arms wrapped around their bodies, beaming widely into the camera. The smile fell. He put Zoe's phone into his pocket, patting it to make sure it was safe.

"Right then," the Doctor said out loud. He tugged his jacket straighter. "Let's go get our girl, hmm?"

The TARDIS hummed in agreement.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter Thirty-Seven**

 _January 2nd 1762, Versailles_

It was a cold January morning when Zoe arrived back at the Palace of Versailles. She had missed Reinette's birthday by only four days as the roads were full of snow and slick with ice, slowing her journey down so that she missed the Christmas season entirely. On Christmas day itself, she had spent several cold and miserable hours trying to keep herself warm in an inn on the road, and the less said about the food the better. Unable to bear the thought of spending longer in the roadside inn whilst the snow melted enough for her carriage to pass unobstructed, she left orders for her belongings to be sent on when they could and set off on horseback across the country to reach Paris. Upon arriving in the capital three days later, she stabled the horse and collapsed into an exhausted sleep to wake late the next morning when she pushed onto Versailles.

Her letter from Marseilles, sent the day she departed, had arrived only days before she did and filled Reinette with a sense of excitement that left her unable to sleep. She kept a vigil at the windows, waiting anxiously for Zoe's arrival and not even Louis's teasing and the faintly mocking whispers of the servants could keep her from the frosted window panes, the glass moist with condensation. It was early afternoon when she spied Zoe approaching the palace on horseback, dressed in a filthy habit and her hair loose and tangled around her. She looked like a well-to-do urchin, but Reinette had never seen anything more beautiful in her life.

Reinette flew from her position at the window as stable boys hurried forward to take the reins of her horse and help her jump down, tugging the leather gloves from her hand as she did so. She ran through the gilded corridors that were still decorated for Christmas, and she picked up her skirts as she hurried down the gran staircase to meet a cold and tired Zoe in the entrance hall. Her approach didn't slow. She slammed into Zoe, the bustle of her skirt digging unpleasantly into Zoe's ribs.

It was only because Zoe saw her coming that they didn't end up sprawled on the floor in an undignified mess that would make the king and queen despair. Her tiredness lifted from her shoulders. She let out a bright, carefree laugh as she hugged Reinette back. Reinette wept happily into her shoulder, breathing in deeply the familiar smell of her lover that was hidden slightly by a layer of sweat that came from her days of travel. Before they gained a larger audience than the servants in the entrance hall, Reinette bundled her away to their apartments, calling for a bath to be drawn.

"I ache in places I didn't know I could ache," Zoe groaned as Reinette's deft hands helped to divest her of her clothes, peeling them off with a small wrinkle in her nose as they were stiff with sweat.

"Did you ride all the way from Marseilles?" Reinette asked with a small laugh, throwing the clothes carelessly to one side, hoping they would be burned but settling to have them removed from their apartment.

"It feels like it."

Zoe wasn't properly alert enough for conversation that first night back but they revelled in being together again. Whilst she slept, Reinette watched her and catalogued the changes she saw in her face although she had only been gone for three months. She had gone to the South of France to explore, her feet itchy for adventure; Reinette had sent her off alone, unable to travel with her as her position in Court made such journeys difficult, and she had missed her every day that she was gone.

When Zoe awoke the next morning, having slept later than normal, she found breakfast waiting for her on the side table. Properly rested, she and Reinette were finally able to talk and their spent their first day back together in their apartments curled together, talking about everything she had missed over the last few months.

"Honestly?" She said, once she finished detailing her time away where there had been no alien invasions or anything interesting of the sort. "I was a little bored. I guess I'm so used to sharing my travel with other people that it just felt strange and lonely without someone there to share it with me. So I cut it short and came home."

A bright smile dawned across Reinette's face. "Home."

"I'm sorry?"

"This is the first time I've heard you refer to here as home," she said. "I like how it sounds."

"Oh, well," Zoe said at a loss for words and feeling flustered enough that she knocked the butter knife to the floor.

Her return to Versailles didn't change much in the day to day running of the Royal Court but it changed everything in Reinette's life. She no longer hosted as many salons, she cut down on the amount of dinners she attended in favour of sharing her meals with Zoe, and her day-to-day happiness increased exponentially with her to share her days with. Louis, always happy to seize on any excuse to host a party, organised a ball for the end of the month to celebrate Zoe's return.

"Please no stays," Zoe begged when Reinette busied herself with getting their dresses for the ball ready.

"There will be stays."

"Why do you torture me like this?" She said, falling back onto their bed, limbs splayed out, a look of intense suffering on her face that Reinette couldn't help but laugh at.

On the night of the ball though, Zoe didn't complain once about having her organs crushed up inside her ribcage or about the discomfort of wearing appropriate shoes instead of her boots. Not that she saw the point of the fancy shoes as the skirt of her dress concealed her footwear but she was aiming to make Reinette happy and so suffered her pinched toes and blistered heels in silence. They danced the night away, twirling and laughing beneath the sparkling sky, the snow crunching beneath their feet and love filling the space between them.

They passed weeks in a similar manner, happily lost in a haze where only they and their love existed and everything else was secondary. It was only when the snow began to melt leaving the grass wet and the trees dripping with a fresh, clean smell that wrapped around the palace as the sun started to warm the earth again, did they begin to settle back into the life they shared together. Her absence prompted Reinette to spend hours sketching her in various positions. She captured her when she was sleeping, reading, fresh in from a ride with the king, laughing with the children that she returned to teaching in Paris, and reclined in the bath.

Wanting something more tangible than the ephemeral pencil lines, she ordered fresh art supplies. She woke Zoe with a kiss on a bright and clear March morning and coaxed her out of bed with the promise of fresh coffee.

"You want to do what?" Zoe asked, the coffee waking her up. She sat in a stream of pale sunlight, and Reinette thought she had never seen anything more beautiful.

"I want to paint your portrait," she said simply.

She waited for Zoe's reaction, stomach fizzing with nerves because there was a strange look on her face that Reinette recognised. It was the look that took hold of her features when she was thinking about something in her past, something _before_ Reinette.

"Okay," Zoe said easily after a moment, sipping her coffee. Reinette must have looked startled because she laughed. "If you want to paint my portrait, then you can paint my portrait. I don't understand why you'd want to, but as long as it makes you happy."

"Thank you, my darling," Reinette said in the face of her acceptance, kissing her cheek before she bit into a croissant.

Zoe watched her fondly before glancing out of the window. She had almost forgotten about the portrait that set her out on her journey through time and space four years earlier. She vividly remembered standing in front of it with her mum and looking up at herself represented in oil and wondering about the story behind it. She remembered the feeling of excitement that burned through her at the promise of an adventure yet to come. She quickly slid her eyes back to Reinette and wished that she could go back to her seventeen-year-old self and tell her that days of love and happiness were to come. She sipped her coffee and thought about closing the circle and how everything worked out in the end without needing anything from her.

Time got what it wanted in the end.

Of course, Zoe might have underestimated how long it took to paint a portrait and by hour two, she grew restless. She watched Reinette behind the canvas, her eyes occasionally peeking out to check fresh details and to make sure she had Zoe's body was accurate on the canvas, a small furrow of concentration between her eyes. When she thought the coast was clear, Zoe shifted to let the blood flow back into her buttocks.

"Sit still," Reinette chided from behind the easel.

A look of innocence that fooled no one appeared on Zoe's face. "I am."

"No, you're fidgeting," she chastised, eyes sparkling with amusement as she peered around the canvas to frown at her lover. "It's affecting the light."

"Oh, well, I'd hate to do that," Zoe replied, mouth lifting up. She settled back into her plush seat where Reinette had arranged her limbs and told her to remain still for the duration of the portrait. Zoe watched her with great affection. "What will you do with the painting?"

"I shall hang it where everyone can admire your beauty," Reinette said simply, and Zoe laughed in delight.

There had been a significant shift in their relationship since they had dealt with the Alfasi months before. They had taken it slowly until one night when Zoe pressed her up against a wall and kissed the laughter from her mouth. Ever since then, Reinette felt as though she was flying as she was happier than she had ever been. The change in Zoe was noticeable as well. Before, she had been prone to bouts of melancholy and solitude but now she was more open with her affection and often sought her out for company, something she rarely did before.

It was as though she had been afraid of something, moving through the palace and the 18th century cautiously, conscious of being out of place, but that was all gone now. She treated the palace as her home and Reinette as something indescribably precious to her.

Reinette was thrilled at the change and found herself being lifted up by Zoe's love that coursed through her, as real and as life giving as the blood that pulsed beneath her skin. She felt decades younger, and Louis teasingly commented on her good spirits during their last lunch together. She loved him dearly but she would never tell him how wonderful it was to be in love with, and to be loved by, Zoe. It felt like a treasured secret that only she knew, and she was a selfish enough person to not want to share it.

"Tell me a story," Reinette requested as she tried to capture the power and beauty of Zoe's body, which was clad in the red dress that Reinette adored on her as it made her skin stand out.

Zoe had been oddly insistent on the dress, something she couldn't recall ever happening before.

"Have I told you about Indra yet?" She asked after a moment's thought, cycling through her usual stories that Reinette had heard at least once, and she settled on the book of myths that she was currently reading.

"No," she said. "Is he a friend of yours?"

"No," Zoe smiled. "He's a figure in Vedic mythology and a key figure in Hinduism. He's the god of the heavens. He once slayed Vrita, the dragon, freeing the rivers and dawn, and bringing back happiness and prosperity to humankind."

"Tell me about him."

As she began to retell the story of Indra, Reinette smiled softly at the canvas and felt her own happiness spill over her.

* * *

 _August 14th 1762, Paris_

Zoe couldn't help but laugh from her spot lazing on the bed in their Versailles apartments when Reinette emerged from behind the dressing screen clothed in one of Zoe's cheap dresses that she used for teaching. It made the uncrowned queen of France look like an exceptionally beautiful peasant woman; the disguise, such as it was, would do nothing to stop people staring at her. It might stop them from recognising her but the stares would come regardless.

As the desire to get out of the palace was making Zoe irritable again, Reinette was stepping back into Zoe's world once more.

They were going to explore the Paris that Reinette had never seen, cloistered and protected as she was by life at court. Zoe planned on taking her on a tour of the seedier streets in Paris and under the city into the catacombs. She wanted Reinette to see the Parisians as she saw them: dignified, honourable, and full of life, although not half as lucky as those in the palace. As such, it was necessary that they both dress the part. That wasn't a problem for Zoe who was comfortable outside of her stays but Reinette just looked peculiar in the blue and white dress that was the one combination of colours that suited them both.

"Don't laugh!" She protested, hands flattening against her stomach self-consciously.

"I'm sorry, darling," Zoe said around her laughter, trying to force her face into something that wasn't bright with amusement. She rolled out of their bed and crossed the room in easy strides to take her into her arms and kiss away the unfamiliar self-consciousness. "You look beautiful."

"I feel so naked," she confessed in a whisper, her nose crinkling, feeling safe within the circle of Zoe's arms. "My breasts are -"

"A sight to behold?" Zoe teased, and Reinette slapped her arm, smiling and blushing. "Here, turn around. I'll tighten the top for you."

"Why is it so loose anyway?" She asked, doing as she was told. "Your breasts are smaller than mine. This should be too tight for me."

"Honestly?" Zoe replied, and Reinette's hair bobbed when she nodded. "I don't like how tight the cloth is so I wear it loose with a shirt underneath."

"How positively scandalous," Reinette said delighted. Zoe kissed her exposed neck, tightening the top of the dress enough that her breasts were held in place. "Oh, that's much better. Thank you."

She reluctantly moved away and picked up Reinette's personal jewellery box, which she had brought with her, and opened the lid. "Jewels."

"Oh, must I?"

"You must," she said, playfully snapping the lid at her. "I think you'll find very few people actually walk around with jewellery expensive enough to purchase the Louvre."

Reluctantly, Reinette peeled off her rings and necklace and carefully arranged them in the box before letting the lid close over them. She held her arms out to her side as she had seen Zoe do before.

"How do I look?"

 _Beautiful_ was Zoe's honest thought. It struck her that it was particularly unfair for Reinette to look beautiful in what was basically a colourful burlap sack but she did. There was less make-up on her face, and the crow lines around her eyes and mouth were visible; her hair was pulled out of its elaborate do and tied simply off at the nape of her neck. She was so beautiful that it took Zoe's breath away and so she told her that. It was a pleasure to watch the colour her words brought creep up Reinette's pale, elegant neck and suffuse into her face.

"You are too much, my darling."

"For you, it's never too much," Zoe replied, leaning in to take a kiss that was willingly given. She offered her arm. "Shall we?"

"Absolutely," Reinette said, taking her arm with enthusiasm. "I'm rather excited about this."

"As well you should be," Zoe grinned. "I may not be able to give you the stars but I'm going to give you a Paris you've never seen before."

The first stage of their journey was to catch a public coach from Versailles into Paris. They walked the short distance from the palace to the town that it was named after, enjoying the early morning good weather and so Zoe could stretch her legs. She was used to more activity than life at the palace offered her, so she took what she could get when it was offered to her. They waited with a man who eyed Zoe disdainfully, the colour of her skin clearly an affront to his good manners, but he looked at Reinette with interest. Zoe squeezed her lover's hand to prevent her from starting a conversation, and Reinette found herself fighting against her nature to remain quiet.

The carriage ride itself was an experience she wouldn't soon forget.

The quarters were cramped and hot. The heat pressed in on them and the smell of human bodies threatened to overwhelm her. She discreetly turned her head so she could breathe in the scent of Zoe's soap, finding that it helped to quell her desire to vomit. She found herself sandwiched between Zoe, whom she didn't mind being pressed against, and a rather dusty-looking tradesman whose hand kept drifting to her thigh. The impertinence of it angered her. She was unused to men taking such liberties with her as her position as Chief Mistress kept men at a respectful distance from her. She shifted closer to Zoe who glanced around and saw what was happening.

It happened too quickly for Reinette to process but one moment the man's hand was on her thigh, the next he was cradling two broken fingers against his chest and Zoe was glancing out of the window again, looking for all the world as though she was bored. Reinette suppressed a smile. Even she couldn't find it in herself to feel sorry for the whimpering man, and she squeezed Zoe's fingers, drawing a secretive smile from her. Even though she felt nervous about venturing out into the world without her normal retinue, especially given the fact that the last time she did so she ended up on the bridge of an alien space ship, she felt safe with Zoe at her side.

She had never let her down before and had always kept her safe. She didn't see why a trip into Paris would be any different.

They were let out just inside the city boundary where the residential area started to give way to the commercial sector. Zoe jumped nimbly out of the carriage as soon as it drew to a halt and offered her hand to Reinette, who took it gratefully; although, it was far easier to step out of the carriage when she wasn't weighed down by the many layers and large underskirt of her normal dresses. She felt that she could soon get used to the freedom that Zoe's preferred mode of dress offered.

"Are you hungry?" Zoe asked, turning to her, tucking her hand into the crook of her elbow, blithely ignoring the man with the broken fingers who scampered away from them. Reinette watched him go, oddly satisfied. "You didn't eat much at breakfast."

"I was too excited," Reinette confessed, and a smile bloomed wide and happy on Zoe's face. "What do you have in mind?"

"I've always believed that the best way to experience a place is through the food," Zoe said, guiding her towards a shabby, clean-looking inn that had barrels set outside where ruddy faced men were drinking wine. "I think you'll find the food is a little different to what you're used to at the palace."

"I place myself entirely in your hands," she said. "I trust you."

Zoe's expression softened. She patted her hand fondly, briefly overwhelmed by her emotions. She led them into the inn, and there was a brief pause in the general murmurings of the establishment as the eyes inside took in the new arrivals. Reinette felt certain they would recognise her and felt a spasm of fear roll through her as not everyone supported the king, but they turned away from them and resumed their own conversations without even a flicker of familiarity. Zoe led her to a table in the corner where they could watch the rest of the room without they themselves being observed. The chair was uncomfortable and the table was slightly uneven, but Reinette seated herself and found herself looking around the room with wide, open curiosity.

Those in the inn were unlike the people she saw in her day to day life. Their dress was poorer and shabbier though well cared for, which suggested a certain pride; and they sat with their elbows on the tables and their shoulders hunched. The French was a little more unrefined than she was used to, the accents stronger and more guttural, but she saw in them Paris and France. They so clearly represented the country and the people that she loved that she felt a kinship to them. When she looked around to Zoe to share in the wonder, she found her lover watching her with a soft, unfamiliar expression on her face.

"What is it?" Reinette asked. "You're looking at me strangely."

"It's nothing." Zoe shook her head, voice soft. "I just...I just wish I could show you the universe, that's all."

"I never wanted the universe," Reinette confessed. "Only you."

To her surprise, tears sprung to Zoe's eyes, and she found herself lost for words. The only time she had seen Zoe close to tears was the night that Reinette told her of her children, dead years before but leaving an aching chasm in her heart that not even Zoe could fill. Zoe reached out and covered her hand, the warmth of it soaking into her, and she turned it over so that their palms slid together, fingers twining.

"You have me," she promised thickly. "For now and always."

Reinette's heart beat heavily in her chest. She couldn't possibly mean what she thought she did. Her mouth was dry and her eyes felt sticky when she blinked. "And...what about when the Doctor returns for you?"

"I told you, I'll deal with it," Zoe said confidently. "And it might be difficult because, when I'm from, you're a historical figure, but there are ways around everything and I'm quite determined."

"That you are," Reinette huffed a laugh. "I remember how determined you were to learn to dance properly. I'm not entirely sure my feet have recovered."

"Your feet are fine," she grinned. "You're going to love it. I'm going to take you dancing on the moon and show you all my favourite places before we find our own places that we love and can share. Although, we will first have to stop off and visit my mum. I'm going to have a lot of explaining to do, and she really won't be happy with me...or the Doctor for that matter. Hopefully, she'll be so angry at him that I can slip by unnoticed. She'll like you though, even if she'll be a little confused. But after that, I'm going to show you _everything_." Uncertainty flickered in her eyes. "If you want to, that is."

"I'll go with you anywhere," Reinette promised fiercely.

An image of them, blurred through lack of details, sprung to her mind of alien planets and different times; all of it experienced with her hand in Zoe's. She didn't care where they were as long as they were together.

That was all she ever wanted.

"Good," Zoe said, clearing the emotion from her throat. She slowly removed her hand as a waiter stomped over and raised an eyebrow in lieu of asking them what they want. His eyes flickered with interest over Reinette who turned her face so that she could wipe the tears from beneath her eyes. "We'll have a bottle of wine and two flamiches."

Reinette looked at her.

"It's a pastry thing and really tasty," Zoe explained. "You'll love it. Trust me."

Trusting her was easier than breathing.

* * *

 _December 20th 1762, Versailles_

The year faded from spring to summer to autumn and finally back into winter.

The grounds of the palace were covered in snow, and the air had turned icy cold. Zoe revelled in the way that her breath formed a white mist in front of her, and she persuaded Reinette to make snow angels on the lawn with her. They ended up shivering and flushed but happy as they warmed each other up in bed later that evening. Their apartments were blissfully warm with the fires roaring and night falling earlier and earlier every day. She admired the servants as the palace was already decorated for Christmas. She went to sleep one night and when she awoke the entire palace was decked out in its traditional decorations. The servants worked feverishly through the night and festooned the building with lights and trees and the festive spirit.

She loved winter at Versailles; it was her favourite season there.

Where London was wet and cold during winter, Versailles was simply beautiful. It felt as though it was what Christmas was supposed to be. Having missed the last Christmas because of her travel chaos, she walked around the castle and the grounds and took everything in, delighting in it in a way she hadn't done before. The kitchen staff often had to chase her out of the large and busy kitchen, wooden spoons lashing out at her behind when she ran away laughing, clutching her spoils to her chest.

The smell of the food seemed even more irresistible at Christmas.

She also participated in Mass despite not being Catholic, and she went to church with Reinette: the one time of the year she did so and only because Reinette asked so sweetly. She enjoyed the cold evenings where she and Reinette curled up by the fire and just spent time together, although Zoe did worry. The weather affected Reinette's health poorly, and she seemed to be in a constant state of coughing and wheezing. She was currently tucked up in bed with another cold and had thrown Zoe from her room due to her fussing, so she used the opportunity to go for a ride.

She walked down to the stables, her boots making the snow crunch beneath her, and she greeted the stable boys who were keeping warm around a fire pit; she waved them off, choosing the saddle her horse herself. She adored her horse, a gift from Reinette, and in a fit of mischief had called it Louis, daring the king to say something about it. His lips had just lifted at the corner, and he was resigned to the matter. Not that the stable hands called her horse Louis as they were afraid of upsetting the king, which she felt was a foolish fear.

He was called Louis the _Beloved_ for a reason.

She saddled her horse and swung herself easily into the saddle, walking him out of the stables before she broke him into a trot to warm him up.

She had been in France for just over four years, and it seemed a lifetime since she was on the SS Madam de Pompadour or walking across Planet One with the Doctor, the heat of the day beating down on her shoulders. It felt like a lifetime since she last saw Rose and Jack, their forms fading as they walked off to the dance festival, and even longer still since she had last seen her mother and Mickey. She missed all of them with a fierceness that faded into gentle pain over the years. The first year was the hardest, and it only got better after the Alfasi, and after she let herself fall in love with Reinette.

Love, Zoe realised, wasn't an emotion. It wasn't like films and books made it out to be where eyes met across a crowded room and it was kismet. It was something much more mundane and real.

It was a choice.

She had decided to love Reinette and fell hard for her. It was a choice she made knowing that it would change her life because, despite her confidence, she wasn't sure that they could safely remove Reinette from her timeline. She needed to speak to the Doctor but there was no sign of him; until there was, she couldn't know for sure how the rest of her life would unfold. Whether she would return to the TARDIS with Reinette or stay in Versailles with Reinette and have her family visit her when they could.

Either way, one thing she was certain of was that her life was now entwined with that of Reinette's and nothing would be able to tear them apart.

"Zoe!" A voice called out, interrupting her thoughts and her gallop.

She pulled her horse around, breathless from the hard run they had just finished, and she saw the king riding out towards her, his usual attendants flanking him.

"Your majesty," she said when he pulled his horse to a stop next to her, his cheeks flushed red from the cold and the exercise.

"Oh, stop it," he said, and she laughed. "I was surprised to hear you'd taken my namesake out for a ride. I thought you'd be keeping Reinette company."

"Apparently I was annoying her," she said good-naturedly. "And so she told me to leave her alone."

"Oh, dear," he replied with a frown. "She must be feeling bad if she won't stand for you fussing over her. She normally enjoys it."

"It's the damn weather," Zoe said. "It gets into her chest every year."

He murmured his agreement, the two of them joined by their concern for the woman they loved. "May I join you for your ride?"

"Of course," she replied. He dismissed his attendants who seized the opportunity to return to the warmth of the castle. She and Louis took off at a steady walk along the tree line where the leaves were frosted and glittered like diamonds. He caught her looking at them.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"It really is," she agreed. "They remind me of a planet I visited once."

She never spoke to Louis about her travels, though it was impossible for him not to know the truth about her, and so he turned to her, fascinated. "Oh?"

"It's called Tolandra," Zoe said, and it was years since she had spoken the name out loud. The nightmares had faded after her first year in the 18th century but occasionally they crept back in, usually when she least expected it. Time had healed most of her wounds and what she had learned from Yatta did the rest. "There, jewels grow on trees like leaves and out of the ground like flowers. It's the most beautiful planet in the universe. The frosted leaves reminded me of it for a moment."

"You have pleased this king greatly," Louis said. "To learn that you consider Versailles as beautiful as that planet."

"You're easy to please," she told him, and he laughed.

"Perhaps," he said, and they lapsed into silence for a spell. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"For the last few weeks, you seem to have had something on your mind," Louis said, and she was surprised he had noticed. "Is there something bothering you?"

Zoe pulled her horse to a stop and faced Louis. "Not bothering me...but I have been thinking about something, and I'm uncertain about it."

"Tell me, if you think it'll help," he said, face filled with kindness and openness. She reached into the pocket of her waistcoat and removed a simple gold ring. She extended it to Louis and placed it in his gloved palm. He stared at it. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I want to ask Reinette to marry me," Zoe said, and saying the words out loud for the first time, she felt terrified but also incredibly certain that it was the right thing to do.

She knew she was young but she had seen and done so much that she felt far older than her twenty-one years.

Louis blinked at her. "You want to _marry_ her? I - two women?"

"I know it doesn't really happen in this time," Zoe said. "And I know it won't be legal, but the important thing is I want to ask her so she knows how I feel about her, properly and without any equivocation."

"My word," he said, withdrawing a handkerchief to press at his face that suddenly beaded with sweat. "Is this - is this a common thing in your time? Women marrying women?"

"Not in my time," she admitted. "Well, not from the year I'm from anyway, but in a few years after my time same sex marriage will be legal almost everywhere."

"Good Lord."

"You're not taking this as well as I hoped you would."

"Forgive me, I'm sorry, I just – you've rather taken me aback," he said, a little wide eyed still, grateful his attendants weren't there to see him stammer. "Why are you hesitating? You know she will say yes."

"Will she?" Zoe asked, voicing her fear. "I know she loves me but she also loves you."

"My Lady of Time, you are an idiot," Louis laughed, and she looked so offended that he couldn't help but laugh harder. "Reinette loves you more deeply than she's ever loved me. She will choose you in a heartbeat if you ever asked her too; however, I know that you won't."

He placed the ring back into her palm; her fingers curled protectively around it

"Ask her, you fool," he said with a smile. "And leave the ceremony to me. It won't be legal, as you say, but I think I can do something to give you the idea of marriage. A celebration of sorts, with the people who love you."

Zoe swallowed against the lump in her throat. "Louis...thank you."

"Thank me by keeping her happy," he said. "That is all I ask."

* * *

 _That same night_

The fires blazed in the hearths and the heavy curtains were drawn over the windows to keep the cold out. Reinette lay in their bed with her back propped up against a mountain of pillows to help the congestion in her lungs. A heavy blanket was draped across her lap, and Zoe's dressing gown around her shoulders. Everything ached. She had been coughing harder and harder as the day progressed, and the doctor had been called for again and left with yet another prescription of bed rest and liquids to help her. She didn't know why they bothered calling the doctor. It wasn't as though there was anything he could do for her cold but both Louis and Zoe tended to worry.

She watched Zoe with bleary eyes as she moved about the room, tidying even though they had servants to do that for them. She was suffering in the heat of their rooms and had stripped down to her nightgown, having torn the sleeves from it so that she didn't overheat. Reinette appreciated her arms, strong and sure, as she stoked the fire to bring the heat up.

She had been uncharacteristically quiet since returning from her ride.

At first, Reinette thought it was because she had thrown her from the rooms earlier, but she quickly dismissed that thought as it wasn't the first time Reinette had forced her to leave, and despite some grumbling, Zoe was always good natured about it. She worried that her moods of old were coming back, and Reinette's stomach twisted at the thought of Zoe being trapped in her mind with regrets and what-ifs. However, even that didn't seem right for she was stoking the fire gently instead of jabbing it at as though it had done her a great wrong. Trying to think it over made her head hurt worse than it already did.

"Darling," Reinette croaked out, her voice barely a whisper, but Zoe heard her and was at her side in an instant, brown eyes crinkling with concern. Her hand stretched out to touch her forehead but remembering the irritability from earlier she diverted and stroked her hair back instead.

Reinette leaned into the touch.

"Do you need some water?" Zoe asked.

"I need you to sit with me."

Her head pounded like a thousand military drums, and her throat was raw and scratchy from all of her coughing. She just wanted to sleep but it was impossible as the pains of her body let her stand on the edge of sleep and yet kept pulling her back with a painful throb or a slow wave of thousands of tiny glass shards that dug into her muscles when she coughed.

"That I can do."

Zoe climbed on top of the covers and situated herself next to Reinette. She lifted an arm, and Reinette shuffled into the space carved out for her against Zoe's body, fitting into her as easily as though she was made for that very spot. She breathed out a soft sigh of comfort and curled her body into Zoe's, cheek resting against her breast, her arm across her waist. The steady _thump-thump_ of the heart beneath her cheek somehow softened the pounding in her head and tears of relief sprang to her eyes.

"That's better," Reinette murmured. Zoe's fingers gently massaged at her temple, easing some of the pain from her skull. She stroked at the hip beneath the white nightgown and was happy to lie there, hoping sleep would take her soon. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" Zoe asked, voice filled with baffled amusement. "Of course I am, you silly thing."

"You've been quiet since you got back from your ride," she said, fingers tracing patterns against Zoe's hip. "You haven't complained about Louis once. It's disconcerting."

"Sorry," she apologised after a moment of silence. "I –I've been thinking about something. It's been on my mind for a while, and Louis helped me with it."

"Mmm?" Reinette replied, interested as whilst Zoe liked Louis a lot, he also wasn't her first port of call for advice – that was Queen Maríe. "That sounds like a story."

"A story, huh?" Zoe teased gently, mind working to find an opportunity for the question she wanted to ask. "Want me to tell you one?"

"Please."

Zoe softly stroked her fingers through Reinette's sweat-dampened hair. She closed her eyes and gathered her courage.

"Once upon a time, there was a young girl from London who ran away to the stars with a madman in a blue box. She saw wonders that she never believed existed and horrors that left her sleepless and scared. She walked on planets where diamonds grew on trees, and she walked in the past as though it was nothing more than just opening the right door and stepping through. She loved her life and the adventures she had. She thought she was happier than she was ever going to be until, one day, she stepped aboard a spaceship and found a fireplace.

"It wasn't any old fireplace, though. Not this one. This one was special. It was the doorway to the past, and framed in the doorway was a young girl who wasn't scared at finding a strange woman in her fireplace or of the clockwork robot under her bed. She was just curious and brave, and she fell in love with the fireplace woman.

"And when the fireplace woman fought the monsters and saved the day, trapping herself in a time and place that wasn't hers, this girl, who was now a woman, took her hand and opened her home and heart to her. The fireplace woman was sad that she was trapped. She missed her family and her life, and she didn't appreciate what the woman was doing for her, and so the two women argued. They made up when they fought aliens together and saved the poor children of Paris from being turned into energy, and on the bridge of another spaceship, looking down at the Earth, the fireplace woman realised what a fool she had been and vowed to do better.

"And although the fireplace woman hadn't treated the woman well at all, she welcomed her back home and loved her despite her faults. The fireplace woman, who was often stupid, knew better than to let the chance slip from her fingers again and..."

Zoe trailed off, her courage deserting her at the last moment. Reinette looked up from her chest, sleep pulling at her eyes. "And what? What happens next?"

She swallowed, unusually afraid. Her heart pounded so painfully in her chest that Reinette pressed a hand over it. "Well...that depends on you."

A small furrow formed between Reinette's eyes. "I don't understand."

"I love you," Zoe said softly, their faces inches apart. "So much, and...what I want to say...I mean..." she blew out a sigh and gathered all the courage that she possessed. "Marry me."

Reinette stared at her, wide eyed and surprised, her tiredness chased away. "What?"

"I want to marry you, Reinette," Zoe repeated, the words spilling out of her desperately now that she had started. "I know it's not the done thing in this time but nothing about our relationship is particularly normal. And when the Doctor returns, we can get married legally in my time or on another planet. Whatever you want. I just - I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I want to marry you. So...yeah. Marry me."

"Oh, Zoe," Reinette whispered, tears in her eyes.

Fear struck at Zoe's heart. "It's fine if you don't want to. I understand it's a little strange for this time. I -"

"Shut up," Reinette said, and Zoe pressed her lips shut. Her hot hand touched Zoe's cheek, tracing her features. "My darling... _yes_. Yes. Yes. Yes."

"Yes?" She asked, hope dawning across her face like a sunrise.

Reinette laughed.

"Yes!"


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter Thirty-Eight**

 _January 25th 1763, Versailles_

"Be careful not to drink so much," Queen Maríe warned when Zoe reached for the decanter of wine for the fourth time, stilling her hand before she touched the crystal. "A drunk bride is a most ungodly of sights."

Zoe's hand fell back. "Speaking from experience, Maríe?"

The queen looked at her with all the disdain that her remark warranted and returned her attention to battling with Zoe's hair. She wasn't used to working with hair that wasn't her daughters, and Zoe's, with its wild curls and thicker nature, was hard for her to beat into submission. However, she was a clever, skilful woman and was able to adapt her plans easily. Whilst she wanted to smooth the hair down and twist it up, without equipment from the 21st century it would be impossible; instead, she decided to exaggerate Zoe's curls since Reinette liked them so much. She smoothed a small amount of oil through her hair to reduce the frizz and then teased them around her face.

"Do you normally wear it down where you are from?" Maríe asked, hands in her hair, fingers pressing against her scalp pleasantly.

"Sometimes," Zoe answered, her mouth tacky from the wine she had already consumed. She wanted some water but it was too far away, and she wasn't about to ask the Queen of France to fetch her a glass of water for even she had her limits. "Depends on my mood. I wear it in a ponytail or a braid sometimes. I just haven't been able to here. Ribbons don't really hold it all in place."

"I think I may be able to do something," she said. "Do not move."

Zoe watched her in the mirror as she worked assiduously at pinning her hair up, and she let her mind drift.

She was getting married today.

Excitement filled her at the thought of the small, intimate ceremony that Louis had put together. It wasn't legal, but none of that mattered because both she and Reinette were getting married because they loved each other. The fact that it wasn't permissible under French law meant nothing to them. Reinette was off with Louis getting ready, and Zoe was amused at the thought of the king helping his oldest friend and favoured lover getting ready for her wedding day when he had been the cause of the end of her first marriage. Even after five years in France, sometimes it was all a little too French for her.

She was grateful that Maríe was helping her prepare but she ached for her mother and sister.

She never once imagined getting married without them present. All of her imaginings – of which there were only a few – involved them being their usual loud selves that would drive her crazy but she wouldn't want to change.

Jackie would be loudly taking charge with curlers in her hair, dressed in her pink silk dressing gown, and Bev would be there as well to help with everything. Rose would run interference for Zoe so that she could have a moment's peace and quiet amongst all the chaos, exchanging knowing grins with each other when their mother got a little too emotional over everything. She would be helped by them into her wedding dress, probably something bought cheaply off the rack because that's all they could afford; and there would be pictures, and tears, and laughter.

She would have had a hen do with Shareen getting loudly drunk and Mickey and the boys crashing the party. It would have been awful and trashy, and she would have loved every moment of it because they were her friends and were celebrating her happiness.

Jackie would walk her down the aisle and sniff loudly in the front row whilst Rose would stand at her side as her Maid of Honour.

She was impossibly sad that they weren't there with her, and she hoped they wouldn't be too upset about missing out on her wedding day. She was sure that when they met Reinette though, and saw how wonderful she was and how happy she made Zoe, they would be happy for her.

Although, the idea of her 18th century aristocratic wife in her mum's small grey flat in the middle of 21st century London was a thought so hilarious to her that she had to bite down on her knuckles to stop herself from dissolving into a fit of laughter. It was a ridiculous image but one that she couldn't wait to make a reality. Jackie would be taken aback but perhaps not entirely surprised given the portrait in the Louvre. She would welcome Reinette with open arms though, of that Zoe was certain. The only thing she would have to do would be to keep Jack away from her as the two of them in the same room was a recipe for disaster in her opinion.

But she wasn't going to let her sad feelings ruin her wedding day because she was getting married. Her excitement outweighed every other feeling.

"Et voilà," Maríe said. Zoe brought her thoughts back to the present and looked at her reflection in the mirror, surprised that she had been able to pin it back so that it was lifted off her neck but kept some of its charming unruliness. "I think a few gems would be perfect."

"No jewels," Zoe said, tilting her chin up. "Flowers. Blue forget-me-nots."

Maríe's eyes softened. "Reinette's favourite."

Zoe just smiled up at her, unembarrassed by the romantic gesture.

By the time that the hour of the ceremony arrived, Zoe was more sober than she had been during her entire time in France to date. She washed the taste of red wine from her mouth with enough water to make her uncomfortable enough that she had to use the chamberpot before she left her apartments with Maríe. Life in the residential side of the palace, those rooms that were not taken up by official functions, came to a temporary halt at the sight of Zoe in her wedding dress. They were more than aware of her relationship with Reinette and seemed to accept it with the usual equanimity that servants generally displayed, so they fell to one side as she walked slowly down the hall, weighed down by the unfamiliar dress, on the queen's arm.

It was a dress of pale ivory that had been specially made for the occasion. A rush had been placed on it, and since the order came from the Queen of France, the dressmaker had got it in ahead of schedule with plenty of time to alter it to fit Zoe's slender, toned frame. The bustle wasn't as large as those on Reinette's dresses, and the bodice was tight, her shape held in place by structured material instead of the torturous devices of stays. The sleeves were fitted around her upper arms and then flowed out from her elbows. She wore no jewellery despite Reinette giving her free reign of her personal jewels, and she accepted a bouquet of Morning Glories, the dark blue colour reminding her of the TARDIS.

She stepped out of the palace and into the cold of late January. Snow still frosted the ground, and there was a small carriage that would convey her and Maríe across the grounds to Reinette's gardens where they were to marry in front of Apollo Fountain.

Reinette was already there, waiting under a large gazebo tent, shrouded from Zoe's eyes and Louis smiled widely as his wife and friend emerged from the carriage. He hurried forward and offered his hand to Zoe who took it, fingers already chilled in the cold weather but she hadn't wanted to wear gloves. He leaned in close and kissed one cheek and then the other, the scent of his familiar perfume filling her nose. He was dressed a little nicer than normal; not so fine that it would attract any unwanted attention from the people he had visiting – some members of the Spanish Royal family – but nice enough that he looked as though he had made an effort.

For whilst many in the court simply accepted their relationship for what it was and turned a blind eye to it, they were French after all and it was hardly an uncommon practice, it wouldn't do to advertise such a thing in front of the Spanish who were annoyingly Catholic and pious. The rumours of a woman marrying a woman with the king's permission might just be enough to potentially destabilise the French aristocracy years before the people were meant to rise up against them; so, the ceremony was to be short and private.

"You looked beautiful," Louis whispered in her ear. She could only smile at him, too excited to find her words, her stomach alive with butterflies. "Are you ready?"

"Absolutely."

"Good," he smiled at her. "Then let's begin."

He had organised a small orchestra to play pieces of Jean-Baptiste Lully's work, and he gave a small nod in their direction. They lifted their violins, violas, and cellos and began to play. Zoe turned the bouquet in her hands and watched as Reinette emerged from the gazebo in a dress nearly as beautiful as she was. Her blonde hair seemed to shine under the sun of the day and her neck glittered with diamonds as she made her way forward, the hem of her pale yellow gown brushing against the snow. Maríe gave Zoe a little push, and she started forward, the snow crunching beneath her feet. As they walked towards each other Zoe's heart beat heavily in her chest at the enormity of what she was doing.

She was pledging her life and her love to this one woman for the rest of her days.

It was terrifying but exhilarating at the same time.

"Hi," Zoe whispered to Reinette when they met in front of the fountain.

Reinette's smile stretched across her face. "Hello. You look...you're so beautiful."

"So are you," she said softly, freeing one hand to reach for Reinette's, which was willingly given. "We're getting married today."

Reinette laughed. "I know. It's wonderful, isn't it?"

Louis cleared his throat, and they both looked to him. He had an amused, fond expression on his face as he took his place between them, his back to the fountain, with Maríe standing just before them as witness.

"Shall we begin?" He asked, and Zoe nodded, squeezing Reinette's hand. They both handed their bouquets to the queen, who took them and held her against her chest.

Towards the end of her life, the memory of her wedding to Reinette would become blurred through old age and distorted through time, but the one thing that would stand out as clear as though she was seeing it for the first time was how beautiful Reinette looked in her wedding dress. It was the second wedding for her, yet she had approached the ceremony with more excitement and fluttering nerves than anything else in her life. Her enthusiasm as they discussed how they should marry and what they should wear had filled their days in the run up to the ceremony and now that they were there, Zoe barely heard the words Louis was speaking as all she could think, on a repeating loop, was that she was getting married.

"With this ring," Reinette said with Zoe's slender hand in hers. "I thee wed."

She slid the simple gold ring onto Zoe's finger and brushed her thumb over it, elated.

"Zoe, you have your own vows for today?" Louis asked, looking to her, and she tore her eyes away from Reinette, clearing her throat.

"Yes, I do," Zoe said. and she kept hold of Reinette's hand. "Right, well, okay then." She cleared her throat nervously. "When – er – when I first came here, I never expected to be here longer than it took to take care of the clockwork androids that, for me, took place over a few hours. I never thought I'd be here long enough to know anyone beyond their names, but then I stepped through the time window after having made the decision to save you and, in an instant, my world was cut off to me."

Reinette listened attentively.

"I was so upset with myself," she continued honestly. "And angry that I was cut off from the life that I loved, and I was awful the first few months."

"The first few years," Reinette corrected with a humorous twist of her mouth, and Louis coughed to cover his laughter.

"We'll agree to disagree," Zoe said, eyes sparkling with amusement, and Reinette grinned at her. "I was horrible and blind to the fact that I'd been given a gift. I don't claim to fully understand how Time works, and I don't believe in fate or destiny, but I do believe that you and I are meant to be. Us being together is good and right and stepping through that time window, although it didn't feel like it at the time, was the best decision I've ever made in my life."

Reinette's eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

"And I know we're two different people," she continued. "You're an aristocrat, and I'm the daughter of a single mother from a council estate in London, but together we make sense in a way that nothing else has in my life. You are my heart and my soul, and I love you more than I thought it was possible to ever love another person."

The tears spilt over and slipped down Reinette's pale cheeks silently, glittering like her diamonds in the sun.

"So, Reinette, my vows to you are this," Zoe said, breathing in deeply. "I promise that whatever life I have, it's yours to share. I promise that I'll be your shield against the world and the universe, so that you know you are always protected and safe at my side. I promise that I will honour you above all others. And I promise that I will be your safe harbour amidst storms. These are my promises to you, from now until my last breath."

Reinette raised a hand and swiped at her tears whilst Maríe hid her face in the flowers, sniffling there. Louis cleared his throat of the tight emotion that was lodged within.

"How beautiful," he murmured, handkerchief pressing against his eyes. "Zoe, the ring."

"I give you this ring as a symbol of the words I've just spoken," Zoe said, holding the golden ring up between them. "I ask that you wear it so you don't forget that I pledge myself, wholly and without reservation, to you, your life, and your happiness."

She took Reinette's trembling hand in hers, and her own hand was shaking. She struggled to get it on, but when she did, the ring slid smoothly down over her finger. She looked up and held Reinette's eyes, feeling calmer and more at peace with herself than ever before.

"With this ring, I thee wed."

* * *

 _July 3rd 1763, La Rochelle_

The sun was so hot that Zoe felt as though she was going to melt into the pure white sand of the beach that she and Reinette were enjoying in La Rochelle. She had no sun cream to protect her skin and was only spared from burning by the fact that she had to wear clothing suitable for the time period; although, her wife had expressed an avid interest in bikinis that she promised to introduced her to once the Doctor finally made his appearance. Next to her, Reinette seemed perfectly comfortable reclining on the blanket with her back supported by cushions and shaded by the large parasol that they both shared.

It was week seven of their honeymoon, delayed due to security reasons and finally approved near the end of April when they proceeded to hurry from the palace in case permission was revoked. They had taken a long, lazy route to La Rochelle and had only been in the port town for three weeks but neither of them were tired of it just yet. There was plenty to see and do, and Reinette enjoyed the obscurity that being away from the palace afforded her. She dressed more simply and relished the opportunity to speak with normal people in the street. Zoe often found herself having to tug her away whilst wondering how she had ended up married to someone as infuriatingly friendly as the Doctor.

To date, their marriage was a resounding success.

Neither of them had been as blissfully happy as they were over the last six months. They took joy in the simple every day things that they had done before but were now imbued with new meaning linked to the rings they both wore. Zoe was happy and relaxed, something that only increased once they left the confines of the palace where they both, by necessity, had to be discreet about their change in relationship. There was a freedom that came with being away from Versailles and they both basked in it.

"Have you ever met Shakespeare?" Reinette asked, breaking through the hazy thoughts of her wife as Zoe considered whether it was worth peeling herself up off the blanket to cool off in the warm sea.

"Shakespeare?" Zoe blinked opening her eyes. "No. Why?"

"Just curious," she said, peeking over the top of her book that Zoe noticed was a play by Shakespeare though the name of the play was too small for her to read from where she was. "Have you met any interesting historical figures? I realise I've only ever asked you about the alien planets you've been to."

"I met Winston Churchill once," Zoe said. "That was fun."

"Who?"

"He's one of the most famous British Prime Ministers of all time," Zoe explained, lifting her legs up and pointing her toes towards the sea. "But not for another one hundred and eighty years or so. He saved Britain from annihilation at the hands of the Germans."

"I'm sorry, what?" Reinette asked, bewildered. She lowered her book. "The Germans?"

"During World War Two," Zoe said around a yawn, and she stretched her whole body, her vision swimming at the stretch. "The Germans were bombing the hell out of us and blocking off our trade routes so we couldn't get food stuff in from our allies. We nearly starved to death, but Churchill and the Allies helped to prevent that. Historians call it our _finest hour_."

"World War _Two_?"

"Not to be confused with World War One," she said, rolling onto her stomach and propping her self up on her elbows, resting her chin in her hands. Her feet were out from beneath the shade of the parasol and immediately started to prickle from the heat. "Which only ended twenty years earlier. It was a bad first half of the 20th century, I won't lie to you."

"The more I hear about your time, the more terrifying it sounds," Reinette admitted.

"That's not my time," she corrected. "My time is about fifty, sixty years later. I'm from the 21st century but born in the 20th. You'll like my time. We have things like the Internet, fast food, cars – you're going to _love_ cars."

Reinette laughed. Zoe, unable to resist, used her elbows to crawl up the blanket until she was lying at her wife's side, and she kissed the laughter from her mouth. They were on a private beach but there was always the danger of being caught, something that concerned Reinette more than Zoe, so she reluctantly kept the kiss suitable for all audiences. When she pulled back, she kissed Reinette on the tip of her nose and opened her mouth to ask her if she wanted to have something to eat when an awful sound broke through the silent heated haze of the afternoon.

The sea screamed loudly as it drew away from the shore and was churned in a vicious circle creating a whirlpool that grew in strength, speed, and size. A large military ship that was moored off the coast of La Rochelle strained against its anchor and broke free under the grip of the sea. From the shore, tiny images of sailors ran back and forth across the deck as they tried to steady the ship, and sails were cast down in an effort to carry them away from danger but to no avail as the current of the whirlpool was too strong. Zoe and Reinette, along with the citizens of La Rochelle who had spilled out of their homes, bars, and restaurants at the sound of the sea, watched in horror as the ship was crushed under the might of the whirlpool. Splinters of wood shot up into the air as it folded in half. Sailors tried to jump and swim to safety but they merely drowned slower than their brethren who stayed on board.

As abruptly as the whirlpool started, it finished.

The water rose up like a chest heaving with breath before it crashed back down and flew outwards. Zoe grabbed hold of Reinette under her arm and heaved her to her feet. They just made it off the beach and behind the safety of a low stone wall when the water rushed up through where they had been sitting and carried their belongings away when it was pulled back out. Reinette's fingers were curled in the back of Zoe's dress, and her face was painted with an expression of surprise.

"What was that?" Reinette asked breathlessly.

"I have no idea," Zoe replied, bewildered by the unexpectedness of everything. "Come on. Let's go."

"Where?"

"To the docks," she said, already moving. Reinette was forced to move with her as she wasn't willing to let go of her shirt just yet. "Come on!"

They ran barefoot along the hot, compressed mud that formed the streets of La Rochelle, their shoes having been washed out to sea, and Reinette was relieved when they reached the docks as the wood was much more forgiving on the soles of her feet. The large wooden pier was alive and buzzing with sailors and locals trying to see if there were any survivors from the strange phenomenon, and Zoe elbowed her way to the front. Nothing, not even odd pieces of wood, washed up against the dock. The sea was as calm as it had been all day, and it looked as though nothing was amiss.

"What was that?" Zoe asked the harbour master, who looked stern and unapproachable amidst the chaos and who subsequently ignored her in favour of stalking off to yell something terse and sharp at one of the boys under his employ.

Fortunately, Reinette had more luck extracting information, and she appeared at Zoe's shoulder to talk into her ear.

"A Charybdis," she said, and there was a shiver of excitement in her tone: _adrenaline junkie_ Zoe thought fondly. "The sailors say it's a Charybdis. Are they even real?"

"I have no idea what one of those is," Zoe said. "What's a Charybdis?"

"It's from Ancient Greek mythology," Reinette said, her mouth lifting fondly. "I know how much you love that."

Zoe just rolled her eyes. She had tried studying mythology for a while but found the Ancient Greek stories the hardest to remember. The lesson that she took away from it all was not to trust Zeus with wives and babies.

"It's a sea monster that is said to eat water three times a day and return it back, creating whirlpools in the ocean," she explained. "The people here believe that there is one off the coast. Is such a thing likely?"

"I've seen stranger things," Zoe confessed, thinking of the Slitheen in people suits years ago. "And where there's smoke there's fire, so maybe. There's probably a much more logical explanation though. I wish I had the screwdriver with me."

She had left it in their rented apartments in the city, no longer in the habit of carrying it with her wherever she went. She rocked back and forth on her heels as she thought about their next course of action. There was every likelihood that the whirlpool was a naturally occurring phenomenon but happening so close to the shore and with the reports of other instances around them to feed into the myth of the Charybdis made it less likely that it was a natural event. It was most likely that something else was at play: alien or otherwise. She looked over at Reinette who was watching her, waiting patiently.

"We should probably head back to the apartments," Zoe said, and her wife's face fell just a little, which made delight swell in Zoe's chest. "You know, maybe stop along the way and talk to people about this thing. Find out what we know."

Reinette's smile was blinding. "We could do that, I suppose."

Zoe winked at her.

They made their way off the dock and back into the city, or at least what passed for a city in 18th century France. The size of it would only qualify it being a large town in the 21st century, but for the French, for now, it was a city. They dipped into cafés that were abuzz with the news, and Reinette did most of the talking as she was more charming than Zoe and also white.

Racism was alive and well in the 18th century, and Zoe had long since reached the end of her tether in dealing with racists so she was happy to hang back and let her wife take the lead, letting people assume that she was Reinette's personal servant. As much as she loved France, she would be grateful for a time when she could get a straight answer out of people without them giving her the runaround because she was black.

Night was beginning to fall when they got back to their palatial apartment, and Zoe started putting together dinner for them; Reinette couldn't cook to save her life but she enjoyed watching Zoe go about it. As Zoe put together a simple meal of cold chicken and a salad with the fresh bread that was picked up that morning, they discussed what they had learned.

"Eight times in the last four months," Reinette said, enjoying the cool night's air as it brushed over her bare arms. "And they say it happens regularly. The next one is likely to be in two weeks."

"This sounds more and more like it's intentional," Zoe said, tossing the salad in a home made dressing. "Although, it doesn't sound as though the whirlpool forms in the same place each time otherwise the ships would be able to avoid it."

"Is it alien?" She asked, setting two wine glasses down on the table and decanting the bottle of white wine into in.

"I want to say yes, but I can't for sure," Zoe replied. "It may very well be alien but there's all sorts of human things it could be as well. Even in my time, the bottom of the ocean is rarely explored. More people have been to the moon than have been on the ocean floor. So maybe it's something from there."

"Between you and me," Reinette said with a spark of mischief in her eyes. "I hope it's alien."

Zoe threw back her head and laughed. "I've corrupted you."

"In more ways than one, my darling," Reinette replied, sweeping forward to kiss her and dinner remained forgotten as they pursued other, more pleasurable, activities.

The next morning, Zoe armed herself with her screwdriver and an outfit that allowed her to wear trousers discreetly before she and Reinette set off for the docks again. She wanted to hire a boat to take them out onto the water so that she could scan it, and she left Reinette to make the arrangements as she stared out across the sea that sparkled brightly beneath the summer sun. It was so peaceful and quiet. It was the one thing that she really appreciated about the past: the silence of a world without technology and machinery. Life was more or less the same, but it was more pleasant without the pollution dirtying the air or the noise of car horns or ship engines filling the world.

Reinette secured them a small fishing trawler with the only captain willing to go out onto the ocean with them, and Zoe climbed aboard. Conscious that her motion sickness might end up with her breakfast going over the side, she held onto the rail tightly. Fortunately, the sea was calm, and it was as easy as travelling by car so she felt nothing but trepidation at being over such deep water. Reinette leaned against her side, her hair flowing back against the breeze the journey created.

"Don't know what you think you'll find," Philippe, the captain, said as he lowered the sails and dropped anchor. "Others have been out having a look ,and they haven't found anything."

"I'm not other people," Zoe said before she leaned so far over the side that Reinette quickly grabbed hold of her in case she slipped head first into the water.

Zoe extended the sonic screwdriver out, and with her tongue between her teeth, she activated the scanner for the first time since the Alfasi incident two years earlier. She scanned the surface of the water and dipped her hand into it whilst she was waiting for the results. When it gave a soft ping, she looked at the readings and wiggled her behind so that Reinette could help pull her back up. She sat down heavily on the floor, the blood having rushed to her head, and she held the screwdriver up to Reinette: Philippe was leaning over the opposite side of the boat smoking.

"Alien," she said, and if Reinette had known how to do so, she would have given a small fist pump of excitement.

"What next then?" Reinette asked. "How do we talk to them?"

"No idea," Zoe said happily, picking herself up. "Don't even know what species they are or even if they are capable of speech. Even if they are, it's unlikely they'll speak English or French, and the only alien words I know are swear words."

"Your friend Jack?" She asked, mouth lifting in amusement.

"My friend Jack," Zoe laughed. "I'm not sure what to do right now. The alien isn't down there right now. It's probably moved on, but I might be able to track it with the concentration of its secretions in the water. Can you get Philippe onboard with going on a wild goose chase?"

"Leave that with me, darling."

Whatever Reinette said to the captain got him to agree on what he clearly thought was a wasted exercise but they were paying him well, and he would be able to keep all the coins for himself rather than share them amongst his crew so he was as happy as he could be. Still, he must have thought Zoe completely odd as she leaned over the side of the boat with the screwdriver extended and called directions to him as she did so. They got further and further out from shore until La Rochelle was a speck in the distance and Philippe was beginning to wonder if he should put a stop to it before he found himself in the middle of the Atlantic when Zoe cried out for him to stop. He dropped the sail and used the heavy wooden oars to slow their movements before dropping the anchor, and the boat gave a lurch when it caught on the sea bed.

"It's coming from over there," she said, pointing off to the port side of the boat, showing Reinette the screwdriver. "About thirty feet. Whatever it is, it's there."

"So what do we do?"

"You can stay here," Zoe offered. "Definitely be safer."

"Where you go, I go, remember?" Reinette replied. Zoe looked away, pleased. "What do we do?"

"I don't think I've ever asked," she said, looking at her appraisingly. "But how's your swimming?"

Philippe agreed to stay and wait for them for the simple fact that he was curious as to what they were doing, certain he would have a story to tell at the pub that night that might earn him a few drinks. Zoe and Reinette stripped down to their under things and dove into the cold water. Leading the way, Zoe cut through the sea and remembered Thanatos and little Okana and how much easier swimming in the Atlantic was. She had left the screwdriver on the boat, uncertain as to whether it was waterproof or not and unwilling to risk it, so she used her common sense to lead her and Reinette to the correct spot that she had marked with her eye.

"We need to dive," Zoe told Reinette, who had kept up admirable and looked particularly fetching wet. "Deep, even breaths, and if you have to, exhale evenly on the way up."

Reinette nodded.

They both drew in slow, deep breaths, and Zoe dove beneath the surface first. It hurt to open her eyes in the salt water, but she squinted through them and kicked with her legs to take her deeper beneath the surface, Reinette following her. She knew they wouldn't be able to swim to the bottom but the readings from the screwdriver said the alien was close to the surface, and she came upon it unexpectedly. It was so startling that she released the breath she was holding and bubbles flew from her mouth. She had to kick for the surface again. When she breached the top she sucked in a deep breath and tried to process what she saw.

"Oh my god," Reinette gasped, appearing next to her, her blonde hair slicked back against her head and neck. "What was that?"

"It looked like a leviathan," Zoe said, panting. "It was so big. It had to be the size of a football pitch, at least."

"Do you think it's dangerous?"

"I really, really hope not," she said, treading water. "Because I don't want us to get eaten."

"I would prefer that not to happen as well," Reinette agreed, catching her breath. "Again?"

"Again."

They dove once more. Now they knew what they were expecting, it didn't startle them as much, but it proved difficult to find the head of the creature. They had to resurface twice before they figured out which way was up and which way was down. They swam to the front of its body and large, pale eyes watched them. It was unnerving but it made no move to attack them, so it was either peaceful or they were so insignificant that they weren't worth the effort to eat.

Zoe floated in front of it and gave a small wave that the Doctor had taught her. It was a universally recognised greeting: the dominant limb raised and any extremities spread as far as they could go, moved back and forth four times before it was dropped back to the side.

With her lungs burning, she waited hopefully.

The Leviathan blinked.

When she opened her eyes again, she was on the surface of the water, and Philippe was pulling her back onto the boat. She looked at Reinette who was wet, pale, and worried above her, shivering in a scratchy blanket that smelt of fish.

"What happened?" Zoe asked groggily, touching her head that throbbed. "Did I pass out?"

"The creature spoke to us," Reinette said, helping her sit up. "You waved at it, and its voice was clear and perfect. It's from a species called the Nereid, and it became stranded here three months ago. It's been trying to get home. That's what the whirlpools are, a way to leave the ocean and return home to their own but it's not working."

"Nereid," she repeated, resting back against the side of the boat. "That's neat. Why don't I remember?"

"It said your memory will come back but it needed to give you information about how to help it," Reinette explained. "An information transfer along telepathic pathways."

She groaned. "That explains the headache."

"What did it mean?"

"Some species are able to communicate by touching each other's minds," Zoe explained, feeling a little sick as the information the Nereid had put in her mind like she was some sort of computer sorted itself out. "The Doctor...his species – the Gallifreyans – they're one such species. They were all linked on a low level telepathic pathway."

"Are you –?"

"No, just human, me," she said with a faint smile. "Which is why this hurts so much, but I know what to do now. I'm going to have to MacGyver it but I can do it. Help me up, please."

Reinette threw off her fish-scented blanket and helped her wife to her feet, supporting her when she stumbled. Zoe abruptly pushed away from her and vomited over the side of the boat, ending with a groan.

"I'm okay," she said, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. "I need the sonic screwdriver and something large and metal. The anchor will do."

Philippe went to pull the anchor up, and Reinette helped Zoe dry off and dress in her trousers and shirt, leaving her dress off, before she pulled on her own clothes. By the time the captain pulled the anchor onto the deck, Zoe was a whirlwind of activity.

"What are you doing?" Reinette asked, taking care to stay out of her way but curious to know exactly what was happening.

"I'm creating an electrical charge that will give just enough juice to the Nereid's attempt to create a dimensional portal that will allow it to travel from our ocean to its own like that." She clicked her fingers, and Reinette opened her mouth to ask a question but Zoe anticipated it. "A dimensional portal is like a door between one place and another, but much, much further apart. Think galaxies apart."

"What's a dimension?"

"A dimension is everything we see around us, it's the space that we live in," Zoe explained, drying the anchor off with the blanket so that she didn't accidentally create an electrical feedback that would bite at her. "In my time, there are four commonly accepted dimensions that make up our universe: three chosen from height, width, length, and depth, and then the fourth dimension of time. These are the dimensions in which we live in. However, there is a fifth dimension and that's space. All of these combined form the universe in which we live, and a thorough understanding of the fourth and fifth dimensions make time and space travel possible."

Reinette stared at her as she tried to understand. She knew the words spoken were French but she had never heard them put together in that order before, and she was struck by how smart her wife was.

"So we will be opening a portal to the fifth dimension to allow the Nereid to travel home?"

"Exactly."

"How?"

"By creating an electrical charge," Zoe explained. "See, salt water is basically a conductive solution. It carries an electrical charge really, really well because it's got both positively and negatively charged ions in it, which the Nereid is trying to use. However, our oceans aren't as salty as the oceans back on its home world so it needs a little kick up the bum to help it, which is where we come in."

"And we're going to run this electrical current through the water, and then what?"

"And then we watch as the ions in the water accelerate at a greater rate in the presence of Time Lord technology and human ingenuity," Zoe said, melting a piece of the anchor so she could stick the screwdriver to it, giving it a small pat of thanks even as she felt a brush of grief through her as it was her only connection to the Doctor. "Although, this does mean the end of the sonic screwdriver. When we see the Doctor again, you're going to have to back me up that sacrificing it was for a good cause."

"Of course," Reinette said. "But are you sure?"

"As sure as I always am," she replied. "Which isn't a lot, but let's try it anyway because it's always important to try. Philippe! Take us port, I'll tell you when to stop. Darling, help me with this anchor and toss it overboard when I say so."

"Will the Nereid know when to start its whirlpool?" She asked, grimacing at the weight of the anchor in her hands.

"We're still connected," Zoe said. "So it'll know."

The boat came close to the edge of the concentration of Nereid excretions. The water began to churn dangerously, buffeting them away from the centre of the whirlpool, but Zoe called out to Philippe to stay steady. When the whirlpool was at its height and they were in danger of being sucked in, she and Reinette pitched the anchor over the side. The reaction was immediate. An electrical charge ran across the surface of the water, and the boat was buffeted violently back as the three of them were thrown from their feet and onto the deck as the boat was lifted into the air whilst the water below them sucked in on itself and the Nereid passed through the portal.

Water crashed over the side and drenched them afresh when it slammed back down.

Zoe's head immediately stopped throbbing, and she looked to Reinette with a grin. "Easy peasy, lemon squeezy."

Reinette lay back on the surface of the boat and laughed, thrilled that this was her life now.

* * *

 _December 31st 1763, Versailles_

Zoe yawned so widely that she heard her jaw click as she made her return from Paris up the sweeping drive of the palace. She was tired and cold and just wanted to be in the warmth of her apartments, preferably buried beneath the blankets with a still sick Reinette. Yet again, her wife had fallen prey to the various illnesses that sprouted up in the winter season and was confined to bed rest whilst being appropriately irritable with Zoe's fussing. In an effort not to argue with her whilst she was sick, Zoe had removed herself to Paris for the day and caught up with several friends and looked in on the school that she had set up some years ago with the king's money, pleased to find that it was flourishing. The children looked bright eyed, clean, and well-fed; the school provided breakfast and lunch for them every day, and they were often the only meals the children got to eat all day.

She stayed longer than she had intended and finally peeled herself away as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon. She didn't enjoy travelling in the dark, particularly as she was without a carriage, so she had saddled Louis the horse, bid farewell to the children and teachers, and made as much time as she was able to whilst the sun was still up.

Another yawn gripped her ,and she whined through it. She just wanted a bath and bed, but she would skip the bath if it was too much effort. The thought of crawling into bed next to her wife, no matter how sick she was, helped to push her forward. Louis trotted up the drive towards the palace that was lit up in anticipation of the ball that night. Since Reinette was sick, neither of them were attending and that suited Zoe just fine. She liked the balls well enough when she and Reinette got to dance together but she found them a tedious exercise in diplomacy and biting her tongue. She much preferred spending time alone with Reinette in their apartments.

"Evening, Lady Zoe," Robert greeted, taking the reins from her hands when he emerged from the warmth of the palace to take Louis from her.

"Evening, Robert," Zoe replied, dismounting smoothly. "Hope you're keeping warm tonight."

"I am, madame, thank you," he said. "Have a nice night."

She returned the sentiment and jogged up the steps, unconcerned that she was dressed in dusty travel gear rather than the bright and shining dresses of the nobility that were present to celebrate the New Year. The entrance hall was empty of them, though she heard the sound of music and laughter filtering from the ballroom. She swung down a corridor away from it, hoping she could persuade a servant to bring her some of the food. She didn't like the balls but she did enjoy the food. She hoped she would be able to tempt Reinette into eating as well as she was looking more tired and thinner over the last few weeks. The illness was affecting her more strongly this year than the past. It was concerning but not overly so as Reinette had the habit of working too hard when she should delegate.

Zoe and Louis both agreed that she needed to slow down but she was stubborn and had kept working until she fainted one day and Zoe had put her foot down.

Perhaps a change of scenery would do her good.

They could return to La Rochelle, a place they both loved and had fond memories of, or perhaps just go to one of Louis's country homes so that she was away from the temptation of work.

She was contemplating how long such a trip would take to put together when she walked straight into the king, who was dressed in all his finery. She stumbled but grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him upright. She laughed, surprised.

"Oh, Louis, I'm sorry," she apologised, brushing him off and straightening his elegant coat. "I didn't see you there. Got lost in my own little world. Shouldn't you be at the ball?"

"Zoe," Louis said carefully, his tone of voice pained and his expression uncertain.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," she said cheerfully before grimacing. "God, forget I said. It might be popular in two hundred years but it'll never be funny. What's up?"

"Zoe," he said again. "It's Reinette."

Cold fear shot through her, and she forgot how to breathe for a second.

"What's happened?" Her voice was cold and sharp; she didn't recognise herself in the tone.

"Her cough got worse," he said, and she couldn't understand why he was speaking to her as though she was a frightened horse that needed to be kept calm. "I called for the doctor again and...oh, Zoe, I'm so sorry. It's - it's tuberculosis."

 _Tuberculosis_.

She felt the structure of her world begin to shake.

"What?" She whispered.

"It's in her lungs," Louis said, patting at his face with his handkerchief. He looked distraught and pale beneath his make-up. "She was coughing up blood this afternoon. She says it been happening for days, but she's said nothing because she didn't want to worry us, so I called Le Mariniére. He said...oh, Zoe...he said there's nothing he can do."

She felt as though she was suspended over the edge of the tallest cliff and one wrong move would see her shattering into thousands of pieces against the ground below.

"There must be something," Zoe said as her mind raced because the alternative was just too horrific for her to accept or even acknowledge.

"All we can do is make her comfortable," Louis told her softly. He reached for her, presumably to share in his grief with the one person who understood what loving Reinette was like, but Zoe shoved past him.

She knocked the King of France to one side and stalked down the hallway. Anger and desperation radiating off her, she started to run.

She burst through the doors of their apartments, startling the servants so fiercely that they jumped back from their tasks with a scream. One glance at her face had them scurrying out of the doors, closing them firmly behind them. Zoe stared at Reinette, who looked small and frail in their bed, her skin so white it looked like paste. Her eyes met Zoe's from the bed, and they stared at each other, the horror of their new reality gaped between them. She swayed on her feet as Reinette's face collapsed in on itself, her bravery leaving her.

"I'm sorry, my darling," Reinette choked on a sob. "I'm so sorry."

Zoe stumbled to the bed their shared and crawled onto it, dirty shoes and all, and she drew Reinette into her arms. Her wife clung to her and buried her face into her chest, her shoulders heaving with sobs, and Zoe couldn't breathe. She was choking on her pain and her grief and the utter incomprehension of what was happening to them. None of it seemed possible and all of it seemed so painfully unfair. She buried her face in the top of Reinette's blonde hair and curled around her wife, trying to wrap her up and shield her from death, as though her body would be enough to keep it at bay.

"It's okay," Zoe whispered through her thick tears, hand smoothing back Reinette's hair. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. I'm here. I'm here."


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter Thirty-Nine**

 _April 15th, 1764_

The room was heavy with the warmth from the fire and the cloying smell of perfume that was used to cover the smell of death. Candles burned brightly in their holders, wax slowly dripping down the sides, and small sticks of incense released curled smoke up towards the ceiling. The heavy, ornate curtains were drawn tightly closed over the windows as natural light had hurt Reinette over the last few days. Her eyes would squint and a pained expression would pass across her face, a low moan falling from her mouth, until Zoe gave the order to draw the curtains during the day but keep them open at night. _Let her see the stars_ she had instructed, her hair unkempt and face hollow from the stress of the last three months. No one queried her orders; so, when Reinette died, she hadn't seen the sun in five days.

She didn't see much of anything though, towards the end.

Zoe shook on the bed next to Reinette. She was aware of nothing else in the room but her; although, the nurses who had been employed to tend to her in her final weeks had sent servants for the king and soon the room was filled with people. Louis arrived out of breath, cheeks stained red, and his eyes wide as he took in the form of his friend on the bed, still and fragile in death in a way she had never been in life. His eyes eventually shifted from her to her wife who was kneeling over her, one hand braced on the headboard to stop herself falling whilst the other stroked her face.

"She won't move, your majesty," a nurse whispered to Louis on the trailing edge of a curtsey. "We've tried asking her, but I don't think she can hear us."

"I expect she can't," he said softly. "Leave it to me."

He slowly approached Zoe, afraid to get to close to Reinette for fear of her corpse being the only thing he remembered of her. He averted his eyes from her body and looked at Zoe's back, which was thinner and narrower than before. She had lost a considerable amount of weight through her worry and care of Reinette, and it wasn't a good look on her. He could hear her talking, the words cracked and desperate and low.

"Reinette, my darling, come back to me."

"Zoe, please," Louis pleaded from behind her, his voice lost in the ocean of grief that enveloped her.

"Please, don't leave me," she whispered to Reinette's still and gaunt face, her hand on her cold cheek. "Come back to me. _Please_."

"Zoe, it's over," Louis said through his own silent tears. He stepped up to the bed and placed his hands on her shoulders. He intended to lift her away. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her and held her, anchoring her to the present. Her hair tickled at his throat, and he closed his eyes against the face of his dearest friend, her illness not washed away by her death. "Come away now. There's nothing more we can do for her."

"I was going to show her the universe," she whispered through dry lips, her hand trembling on Reinette's cheek, red-rimmed eyes moving over her face that she had found beautiful even after it had been ravaged by the tuberculosis. "So many places...I was going to show her everything. We were going to be together, forever."

"Oh, my dear," he breathed, agony slicing through him, and he hid his face in her hair as his tears spilled over onto his cheeks. He bent at his knees and pulled her away from Reinette's body. "Come away now. Come on."

He pulled her away, and she was as pliable as a newborn kitten. He lifted her into his arms as her mouth opened and a horrible sound of grief emerged forth. He turned his back on Reinette's body and strode from the room as quickly as he could, not daring to look back, nearly stumbling with Zoe in his arms as her pained cry of grief and agony came to an end. She fell silent and limp in his arms. He looked down at her. Her eyes were open but she saw nothing. He made his way down the halls, ignoring the servants and the tight ball of emotion in his throat, and he took her to his own personal chambers that were larger and far grander than hers and Reinette's. Maríe was there, embroidering by the window, and she looked up when he entered.

Her face fell.

"Oh no," she said, dropping her work in her lap. "Is she gone?"

"Not thirty minutes since," Louis replied. Maríe crossed herself, murmuring a prayer to her god to ensure Reinette's safe journey to heaven, before she rose to her feet and moved to help her husband with his burden.

"What's wrong with her?" Maríe asked as he set her down on his bed, placing a pillow beneath her head.

Zoe lay there, blank and unblinking, as she stared up at the canopy.

"She's heartbroken," Louis answered sadly, resting his hand briefly upon the top of her head, thumb over her forehead. "And who can blame her when she loved Reinette so fiercely? Will you stay with her? There are some things I must attend to."

"Of course, my love," Maríe replied and he moved to leave the room before he paused and leaned in to kiss his wife's cheek, his lips lingering there. She raised her hand and touched his cheek with soft affection. "I love you too."

He smiled sadly before he left the room, leaving Zoe in his wife's capable hands.

On the bed, grief wrapped around Zoe like a wet shroud that clung to her and tried to suffocate her with every breath she took. The colours were washed from the world, and everything seemed dull and lifeless. She lay there for hours, mind blank in the wake of her loss, and she worried Maríe so much with her inactivity and her lack of responsiveness that she called for Le Mariniére. Zoe couldn't bring herself to respond to his questions, though she did hear them. Speaking was beyond her right now, so he gave her a sleeping aid so that she could find some rest. She didn't protest as he forced it down her throat, and she didn't fight the insistent pull against her consciousness as it took effect. She preferred the dark oblivion of sleep where nothing hurt to the harsh reality of life where everything hurt.

The next morning, Zoe opened her eyes and grimaced at the bright light that shone through the windows. She slowly looked around the unfamiliar room, half-expecting to find the TARDIS at the foot of her bed.

"I get it now," she whispered to the universe, voice cracked from a day of not using it. "I understand."

Her time spent in the past, unable to find her way back to the Doctor, made sense in a way it hadn't before. The clockwork androids of the Madame de Pompadour had punched a hole in time and space; a powerful, uncontrolled hole that allowed Zoe to slip through the days and years of Reinette's life in the blink of an eye. To hold such a thing in place, they would have had to have placed a restriction around it, a type of blockage to stop people passing through it and destabilising it. She remembered what the Doctor had once told her about the Time War and how he had placed a Time Lock on it to prevent travel in and out. Something similar must have been used on the years of Reinette's life.

Only with her death could it be broken.

Only with her death was Zoe able to leave the 18th century.

"Fuck you," Zoe whispered, closing her eyes and curling her fingers into the bedspread beneath her, tightening her hands into fists. "Fuck everything. She was not a price I was willing to pay to go home. Fuck this."

Hot tears leaked from beneath her closed eyes, and she rolled onto her side and pressed her face into the pillow, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed silently into it.

The last three months had been horrible with brief moments of shining happiness in between to make the tension and worry ease in Zoe's chest, albeit only momentarily. Reinette's illness gripped her ferociously and hadn't let go. Her decline hadn't happened straight away. For most of January, she appeared fit and hale with the odd moments of swaying sickness that made Zoe lunge for her. Le Mariniére tried a number of different treatments to satisfy both Zoe and the king but nothing seemed to take effect, and then suddenly, Reinette had collapsed in the middle of February and didn't leave her bed again.

She and Louis called in every doctor they could get their hands on, which was a large number given that the king was the one asking, but they all said the same thing: there was nothing that could be done for her except to help make her comfortable. The disease was in her lungs, and it had taken hold. It was far too advanced to do anything about it. The colds that she had been suffering from on and off were warning signs; warning signs that Zoe had ignored because she thought they were just colds and now hated herself for it.

In the end, Reinette put her foot down.

She didn't want to spend her last days being examined by doctors, and reluctantly, Zoe had conceded to her wishes.

"Zoe, my dear?" Maríe asked from somewhere behind her, but she didn't raise her head from her pillow. She just kept crying, holding the pillow tightly so she wouldn't be cast adrift in her grief. "There's some food for you if you feel you can eat. You do not have to suffer this alone."

She was grateful when Maríe left her to it but not before leaving a small kiss on the top of her head that reminded her of Jackie. She desperately wanted her mother in that moment. She wanted to crawl into Jackie's arms and be shielded from the world but her mother was as lost to her as everything else.

"I can change this. I can change this," she repeated to herself once her tears had died down, and she was left feeling stuffed up and exhausted.

She knew she couldn't though.

Deep down, she knew she couldn't.

There were rules to Time. She knew that, and she doubted the Doctor would bend them for her. Not after what had happened between Rose and her father.

She kept turning over and over in her mind why she hadn't Googled Reinette when she saw the picture in the Louvre. She wished that she had given into her curiosity so that she would have been prepared for what was to come. However, the small part of her that was less riddled with grief was glad that she hadn't known. The thought of living with the knowledge of Reinette's death filled her with a quiet, sickening horror. She knew she wouldn't have been able to accept her wife's approaching death with any measure of calm or decorum. As it was, she had raged at the universe, Time, the Doctor, and anything and everyone else that crossed her path.

The servants quickly learnt to duck out of sight when they saw her coming.

Reinette, however, had accepted her fate with grace and peace. Her life was one that she looked back on with pride. There were moments of incomprehensible pain such as the deaths of her children but moments of pure happiness as well: meeting Louis for the first time; knowing that Zoe would walk the slow path with her; their wedding day and every day that came after. There were letters that she had written for both of them, the two people she loved most in the world. Zoe knew they were in her writing desk, but she couldn't bring herself to think about that right now. She didn't want to know what Reinette's last message to her was as, once she read it, there would be nothing else.

No new memories, no nothing.

Just days already lived.

The door opened silently, and Louis stepped inside, dressed in black for mourning. He took in the sight of her on his bed and moved quietly to her side where he sat down lightly next to her. He didn't say anything. He just reached out and put his hand on her ankle. She didn't so much as twitch, even when his thumb rubbed absently at the bare skin there. He sat with her for a long time, the silence stretching between them, until she was lulled back into sleep by his presence and the comforting _rub-rub_ on her ankle.

* * *

 _April 18th 1764, Versailles_

"You will always have a home here," Louis whispered to Zoe, holding her face between his hands. She looked back at him, her eyes dark with grief, and he didn't know if she heard him or not. "Always. You don't have to leave."

Her hands slowly came up, as though unused to using them, and she wrapped them around his wrists. Her fingers were cold, but she didn't peel his hands away from her face as he thought she might. Instead, she pressed her thumbs over his pulse points and held onto him, leaning the weight of her head into his hands. He wanted to take her back inside with him and sit her in front of a fire in the hope that he might warm some life back into her. She had been listless and not entirely there since Reinette had died three days earlier. All the light and spirit and energy that made her _her_ was gone, and Louis worried as to whether it would ever come back.

Right until the end, she held onto her hope that the Doctor would come for her and save Reinette but he never came.

"I do," Zoe said, her voice cracked and hoarse from the weight of her grief that aged her before her time. "But this is our home. I can't be here if it's just me."

"Where will you go?" He asked, smoothing his thumbs across her cheekbones. Her eyelashes fluttered at the comforting touch.

"My flat in Paris," she replied. "I'm going there for a while. And then...who knows?"

"What of your friend?" Louis asked her. "The Doctor? What if he comes looking for you? Where am I to tell him to go?"

"If he comes," Zoe said heavily. "He'll be able to find me."

Louis swallowed hard against the emotion in his throat. "Please stay, Zoe. Please stay."

She sniffed. Her mouth twitched into the semblance of a smile, but it was empty of any warmth or emotion of any kind. "I'm going to miss you, Louis. You've been a good friend. You and Maríe both."

He pulled her into a hug, and she stiffened in surprise as they had never hugged in the years of knowing each other, but she relaxed into his embrace and lifted her arms to hug him back. He held onto her tightly and pressed his face into her hair, unsure if letting her go was the right thing to do. He was desperately worried about her but there was nothing he could do except appeal to her common sense and her friendship for him, which he had already done many times over since she had told him that morning that she was leaving the palace. He couldn't stop her. She wasn't his subject or beholden to him in any way, and he had seen her fight demons from the future as though it was nothing at all. So as much as he wanted to keep her where she would be safe and loved, so they could share their grief over the woman they both loved, he had to let her go.

"Wherever your journeys take you," he said softly into her ear. "Know that you will always find comfort here."

Her grip on him tightly a little, and her face turned into his neck. "Thank you."

"God speed, my lady of time," Louis said, bracing himself, and he pulled back to kiss one cheek and then the other. "Travel well."

"Goodbye, Louis," Zoe said, her hand resting on his chest over his heart. "And thank you, for everything."

He walked her out into the rain and handed her up into the carriage that would lead the way for Reinette's coffin. He helped lift her skirts up into the interior and looked at her, sitting within, before he gave her one last sad smile and shut the door for her.

The rain hammered against him and slid down the back of his shirt, running down the length of his spine. He stayed there a moment longer though, regretful that she was leaving and under such circumstances as well. He took a step back from the carriage and made his way back inside. He paused once he was under the stone awning to watch as the undertakers lifted Reinette's heavy oak coffin into the horse drawn hearse. Florists waited nearby, ready to decorate it, though the flowers would be ruined by the time they reached Paris due to the rain.

The servants saw him watching, and they dipped into curtseys and bows.

With one last glance at the coffin containing his dearest friend, he made his way back inside with shoulders that slumped under the weight of grief. It felt like it was only yesterday when he had first met Reinette the night of the Yew Ball. She had been so bright and beautiful, it had been impossible not to be drawn to her, and now she was gone. It was bitterly unfair that a woman in the prime of her life, when her career was flourishing and she was never happier and more fulfilled personally, should be struck down and her existence snuffed from the universe like a candle being extinguished.

He straightened his shoulders, trying to force his grief away, but it didn't work. He wanted to find his wife and sit with her so that her presence could be a balm on his soul.

Instead, he delayed a little longer and stood in the gallery that overlooked the courtyard and watched the final preparations for Reinette's final departure from Versailles. He thought of Zoe, alone and grieving, in the carriage below. He was filled with the desire to go back out to her but he remained where he was. She would either come home or she wouldn't. He wouldn't spend his life waiting for her familiar face to appear as he had seen what it did to Reinette over the years, waiting for Zoe to slip back into her life once more. All those years Reinette had loved him, he was never first in her heart as that place had been taken by the strangest woman he had ever met when she was only a child.

Not that he begrudged Zoe her victory, for she loved Reinette in a way that he hadn't been able to: freely, openly, and without any reservation.

"Goodbye, old friend," Louis whispered as Zoe's carriage began to trundle down the long drive, and Reinette's began to follow slowly. His eyes flicked to the hearse. "Rest well, my dear, for we shall meet again."

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it beneath his eyes. He quickly put it away as the sound of heavy footsteps approached him. It would not do to been seen crying in front of the servants; he had to maintain some form of royal appearance around them after all. He straightened his posture once more and released a slow breath, wishing that Reinette had better weather for her final journey to Paris. She hated the rain. She always fretted about the flowers in the garden, afraid that they would be drowned if a rainstorm lasted too long, and she hated getting wet whilst wearing clothes. She said it was only sensible to be wet when one was naked and in a warm bath otherwise it was just silly.

A smile played on his mouth at the memory.

"Zoe? Zoe, are you here?" A deep male voice called out, and Louis turned, surprised. "Oh, hello."

The man paused in the doorway to the gallery. He was tall and dressed exactly as Zoe had once described to him one night when she and Reinette were fighting, years before they were married, and she was slowly getting drunk on his wine. She didn't share many stories with him, private by nature and perhaps the reminder of her past was too sharp, but those she did share were done under the influence of alcohol and normally a good mood.

He wore a large leather jacket, a dark green jumper, black trousers of the same material that Zoe had arrived in, and heavy boots. He was less handsome than Louis expected but there was a pleasing character to the rugged plains of his face that drew the eye: a strong nose, bright eyes, and ears that were just a touch too large. He looked innocuous, and not at all like the man he had heard stories of.

Not at all like a man who travelled through time and space simply because he could.

"You must the Doctor." Louis said, voice pleasant enough given the circumstances.

"Yes, that's me, hello," the Doctor said in perfect French. "You're the King of France."

"I am."

"I'm looking for my friend, Zoe," he said, looking around as though expecting her to appear out of nowhere. "I promised I'd come for her, but I think I might be off by a couple of days. It was surprisingly difficult to get the TARDIS to land here."

"TARDIS," Louis repeated, eyes closing briefly as he remembered. "Time and Relative Dimension in Space. Your time and space ship, if I remember correctly?"

The Doctor looked surprised. "Yeah, that's – that's exactly right. Zoe told you about that?"

"Over the years, I've had the opportunity to hear a few of her stories," he said, regretting he had never asked her more questions about her travels that all seemed so impossible to him, but the truth was she intimidated him slightly. "The moment she first set foot inside the TARDIS is a memory that she particularly treasures."

"Years?" The Doctor repeated, his face blank with shock. "Did you say years? I – how long? How long has it been for her?"

"Six years," he answered simply, and the Doctor's eyes flickered whilst the lines around his mouth tightened. "And I'm afraid you've just missed her. She's heading into Paris where she will be staying for some time. I can give you the address of the flat she keeps there, if you would like it?"

"I – yes," he said, and he felt as though he couldn't breathe properly because _six years_ was a long time for a human. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"Who's that?" The Doctor asked, standing at the window with his hands braced on the still to help him with his sudden light-headedness: _six years_.

Louis glanced around from his writing desk that was pressed up against the wall. After her death, Louis had gone through her desk and found the letters she had written him and Zoe, and he took her address book so he could write to those she considered friends. Soon everyone would know of her death as the news rolled out through France, but he liked the personal touch of communicating directly with those she held dear. His fingers flicked through her list of addresses, and he hesitated before he tore Zoe's out from the book. It was clear no one would need it again. The Doctor was watching Reinette's funeral procession grow ever smaller in the window, the rain partially obscuring the view.

"Madame de Pompadour," Louis answered softly, coming to stand at his side with the piece of paper in his hand. "Leaving Versailles for the last time. She was only forty three when she died...far too young, with so much still to live for."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said sincerely, expressing his condolences. "She was your lover."

"She was my dearest friend," he corrected gently. "Save your sympathies for Zoe. She needs them more than I do." He held out the piece of paper. "They'll be in Paris by six. Zoe said she will attend the internment, so she should be back in her flat by nightfall if you wish to wait for her there."

The Doctor took the paper from the king's hand and glanced down at the address, memorising it just in case he lost it, and he put the paper into his pocket. "Thank you for your help."

"Travel safe, Doctor," Louis said, turning back to look out the window. The Doctor paused in the doorway and looked back.

"Your majesty?"

"Yes?"

"Zoe..." the Doctor began, and Louis looked over his shoulder to him. "Has she been happy here?"

Louis's expression softened. "She has been very happy here, Doctor. Very happy indeed."

He swallowed and nodded, hand resting against the door frame.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "For looking after her when I couldn't."

"I did very little," Louis said. "Reinette was the one who took her in."

The Doctor glanced back out the window at where the hearse was finally out of sight, and he nodded again before he let his hand drop from the door frame and walked away. He hadn't looked around the palace upon his arrival minutes earlier, too focused on finding Zoe to pay any attention, but now that he knew the palace had been her home for the last six years, he began to pay attention. She must have felt like a fish out of water amongst such finery, and he wondered how changed he would find her. He hurried through the apartments that he had landed in, in front of the fireplace that had started this whole adventure hours ( _or years_ ) ago, and unlocked the TARDIS.

He stepped inside and glared at his ship.

"Why the hell are we six years late?" The Doctor demanded angrily. "Six years! This is not the time to be playing one of your little tricks, you hear me? It's Zoe, for Rassilon's sake. We should've been on time for her."

The TARDIS flashed at him, upset at his tone. The door snapped shut behind him, kicking him further inside of her. The computer screen at the console flashed to life and a scan began to run. He stomped up the stairs like an angry child and stood in front of the computer as he watched the scan complete. The scowl from his face slowly dropped as he took in the results.

"Dammit," he muttered, typing something on the keyboard and another screen was brought up to show the same information, verifying. "Bloody Time Lock."

* * *

 _Later that day, Paris_

The rain continued to pour during the graveside burial.

She was the only mourner, and she preferred it that way as she could grieve openly. She neither heard nor cared what the Catholic priest said over the casket that nestled in the ground next to Reinette's beloved daughter, the polished wood of Alexandrine's coffin faded and rotted in the years since her death. It was a familiar low murmur of Latin, memories of Christmases spent in church rising to the fore. It could just be heard above the rain, and Zoe tossed her handful of earth on to the surface of the dark oak coffin. She watched it scatter across the burnished lid, leaving her hand covered with dirt. She looked at her palm before she wiped it against her thigh, smearing it across her mourning dress. The priest left without a word to her, and she stood at the hole in the ground and watched as it was covered with earth; the workers had wanted to wait until the rain stopped but Zoe had paid them extra to do it immediately.

She didn't like the thought of her sitting out in the open whilst the rain poured down on her from the heavens.

The last of the unearthed soil was thrown on top and tamped down by the flat side of the shovel. The workers left her to it, grumbling as they walked away, soaked through to the bone and eager to get into the warmth of an inn. Her name wasn't on the gravestone yet. She would share with her daughter as per her request, and Zoe's eyes lingered on the space beneath Alexandrine's name where Reinette's would sit. She felt light headed again and breathed out, long and slow, the rain slicking her hair back against her head. She crouched down and rested her hands in the loose earth, pressing her fingers in so that she could grab fistfuls of it, and she wanted to crawl into the grave with her.

"I'll never let you go," Zoe promised Reinette, eyes tightly shut as she drew her smiling face to the front of her mind. "I could have all of time and I'll never let you go. I promise."

She lingered for a moment longer before she removed her hand from the earth, wiping them clean on the grass, and she stood up, tilting her face towards the sky and closing her eyes. She breathed in deeply and let the oxygen fill her lungs until it hurt before she released it slowly, feeling steadier than she had since Reinette slipped from the world. She was more aware of the world around her. The rain was frigid, and she shivered, suddenly aware of how wet and cold she really was. She stepped away from Reinette's grave and kept putting one foot in front of the other. She made her way towards the entrance to the graveyard as quickly as she could before she changed her mind and lay down with Reinette to let the rain wash her away.

She had dismissed the carriage driver earlier, sending him back to the palace, and she stood outside the graveyard as she tried to remember which way she needed to go for her flat. She was in the nice part of Paris, a place that she rarely went, and she was slightly disoriented. She remembered she needed to bear left when a sound, like the universe breathing, filled the air.

A wheezing, groaning sound.

"No," Zoe breathed, eyes wide, and she spun on her heels looking and searching through the rain for the impossible sight. "No."

Ten feet from her, with its back pressed up against the iron railings, the TARDIS breathed itself into existence.

There had never been a time when the sight of the TARDIS was anything but welcome and amazing, but now, on the day she'd buried her wife, Zoe wanted to run. It was unfair. It was impossibly unfair that he would come _now_ when it was too late. She needed him three days ago. She didn't need him now. She stood perfectly still as the TARDIS finished the dematerialisation process, and she felt it in her mind, filling up the space where it had once sat. It was a quiet and unnoticeable presence in the back of her mind but it was obvious to her now that she had lived without it there.

The door opened, and the Doctor stepped out.

Six years.

She hadn't seen him in six years, and he hadn't changed an iota.

He pulled back with a scowl when he stepped out into the rain, but he didn't let it deter him as he glanced around at his surroundings, taking in the tall buildings and muddy street that was turning slick with filth. His eyes passed over her at first, mistaking her for a stranger, but they snapped back quickly. His eyes widened, and his mouth turned slack with surprise as he stared at her. He stepped out of the TARDIS: the glow from the inside spilt out onto the wet pavement. He left the door open and took a step towards her, uncertain at first, before he closed the distance between them with long, easy strides.

"Zoe," the Doctor said, reaching for her, his voice filled with relief. "Thank Rassilon. You're okay."

Red passed across her vision, and she heard the loud rush of her blood through her ears. When it cleared and she could see again, he was cradling his jaw with a look of surprise on his face: a small trickle of blood oozed from the cut on his lip.

Her fist throbbed.

"Where the hell have you been?" Zoe shouted, anger surging through her as everything negative emotion she had felt in the last six years bubbled up inside her and spilled over. She lunged forwards and pushed him as hard as she could, hands planted against his chest. He stumbled back and nearly lost his footing. "Six years! I waited for you for six years! And you come now? _Now,_ when you're no fucking use to me at all!"

"Zoe –!" He protested only to have her shove him again.

He staggered back, the strength in her arms backed up by the rage that filled her.

"You have a time machine!" She yelled at him, pushing him again and again. He let her, bewildered by her anger and taken aback by the hatred that burned in her eyes. Just that morning, she gad been smiling and laughing at him with affection. "A fucking time machine! Of all the times I needed you to get it right, and you let me down!"

"Zoe, stop!" He protested, making a grab for her hands. She gave him one final push, and he was knocked back against the side of the TARDIS, the breath slammed from him.

The sharp edge of the TARDIS dug into his spine and white spots of pain dance in front of his eyes.

"Don't tell me what to do!" She ordered, her voice cutting through him like ice. She trembled with rage in front of him, her hair wet and slick against her scalp. The differences in her were easy to see up close: sharper cheekbones, hollower cheeks, duller eyes. "She's dead. Do you understand that? She's dead, and you could have saved her by just being on fucking time for once in your god-damned life!"

Her eyes closed briefly, overcome by the emotion coursing through her, and the Doctor moved quickly, between one blink and the next. He closed the distance between them and caught her in his arms. Her eyes snapped open, and she pushed at him, twisting her shoulders to try and break free, but he put one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulder so that he could cup the back of her head. She struggled against him but her knees were trapped by the heavy, wet skirt of her dress, and her arms were folded between their bodies.

"Let go of me!"

"Stop fighting." The Doctor told her, voice deliberately low and soothing in tone. "Zoe, you need to stop. _Breathe._ Just for a second. Breathe."

Her hands curled into fists between them. She dug her knuckles painfully into his stomach, trying to hurt him enough that he would release her, but he held her firm against him. Her words were a mixture of furious French and English as she raged at him, cursing his very existence and that of his parents; spitting that she wished she had never met him whilst she exhausted her anger at him and the universe for Reinette's death. It took longer than he thought it would, but slowly her fury gave away to tears and the strength was stripped from her body. Her tears were hot against the skin of his neck, and the pressure of her fists against his stomach eased. Her hands fell down to their sides.

She stood slumped there against him, shoulders trembling as she cried with short, gasping breaths that tore at his hearts.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor breathed against the top of her wet head. "I'm so sorry."

"I thought I could save her," Zoe said, and she sounded like a child: lost and confused. "But I couldn't. I had to watch her die."

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, aching for her. He smoothed her wet hair back from her forehead, cradling her against his shoulder, and he looked down upon her features. "I'm just so sorry. C'mon. Let's get you inside. You're going to get pneumonia like this."

He stepped away from the TARDIS. Her body simply flowed with his, letting him hold her up and guide her as she rested the full weight of her body against his side. He kept his arm looped around her waist and held her hand within his. She felt different from the last time he had hugged her. It was a quick, encouraging one six hours earlier before she jumped through the time window but her body was now stronger and firmer. The slight hint of baby fat that had been clinging to her when they had first met was gone, and the somewhat gangly teenager she had been just that morning had given way to the woman that she was now.

She hesitated outside the TARDIS, pulling back in his grip, and she stared inside the console room that hummed warmly: a familiar sound that she had forgotten over the years.

"It's okay," the Doctor said, pausing with her despite the rain that wasn't letting up. "Come on now. Just a few more steps."

Zoe stepped inside the TARDIS for the first time in years and warmth washed over her. She shivered and leant against the Doctor as he closed the door and helped her up the ramp; the Time Rotor bluer and brighter than she remembered. She felt as though she was dreaming again, having often dreamt of the TARDIS over the years. She reached out and let her fingers trail over the edge of the console to reassure herself that it was real as he walked her past it. Her eyes closed in agony at the thought of what Reinette's face would have looked like when she saw the inside of the TARDIS for the first time.

Zoe would never know now because the Doctor was three days too late.

Her anger at him resurfaced, and she jerked away from him. Her shoulder banged into a strut, and he went to steady her. She avoided his touch and staggered forward under her own dwindling steam, hand against a wall to keep her balance as she made her way out of the console room. Her room was close, and she fumbled with the door before she entered.

It was exactly how she had left it the morning they landed on the SS Madame de Pompadour. Her bed was made, and the pillows were at an odd angle as she had just tossed them into place on her way out of the room; the book she had been reading was in the middle of it with a T-shirt she discarded at the last minute crumpled next to it. She had been planning on tidying it up before picking Rose and Jack up but she had left before she could do that.

She stood in the middle of her room and dripped rain water onto the floor.

"How long has it been?" Zoe asked, and she forced herself to use English. She had been yelling at him in French and found the transition back to her native language strange and unpleasant. She hadn't used it for six years, except to swear, and it came out of her mouth oddly stilted and formal, accented by her years away; her London accent no longer clung to her speech. "For you, I mean."

"About six hours," the Doctor said from where he stood in the doorway, watching her carefully, uncertain of her rapid mood change.

"Six hours," she repeated on the breath of a faint laugh. She closed her eyes and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. "Fucking time travel."

"I tried to come sooner," he told her, and he kept his eyes on her like she was a wild, dangerous animal. "But there was something similar to a Time Lock on the years surrounding Reinette's life."

"Mmm," she agreed, hand dropping and she rolled her neck. "I figured that out not too long ago. I guess those clockwork androids were smarter than we thought."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Thing is though," she turned to face him, and he didn't like the glint in her eyes. "You're smarter. So, how the hell did you not get here a week ago? Or three days? Three days ago would have been great, but no. You get here _today_ when it doesn't bloody matter."

"I didn't know it was being blocked," he replied, voice intentionally calm. "Not until I landed and talked to the king. By the time I did and learnt that it'd been six years for you, I was part of events. I couldn't change anything."

"And if I ask you too?" Zoe asked. and a cold fear settled in his stomach. He went still as he stared at her and took in her dark, calculating eyes. He didn't like the expression on her face as there were lines of desperation clinging to her – faint but visible to his eyes. "If I ask you to go back to a week ago, or just three days, would you do it?"

"Zoe..." the Doctor said softly with eyes filled with understanding and regret. "If I did that, the damage to the timeline would be severe. It'd create a paradox because you'd need to tell me to go back in time, but you – this you – would cease to exist."

"Good," she said fiercely, one hand clenching at her side. "Because I don't want to exist in a world that she doesn't. Let past me have her. Spare me from this pain, please. Don't make me live with it."

"I can't do that," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both."

Tears spilled down her cheeks, and her jaw worked. "She was my wife, Doctor. My _wife._ "

"Oh god." Horror dawned on him and settled heavily in his stomach before spreading out along his veins to his fingers and toes and the tips of his ears. "Zoe, you didn't."

"We got married last year," Zoe told him, letting her tears fall freely. She raised her hand where her gold wedding band lived, and he stared at it. "End of January, a few days before my birthday. She was going to come with us, if you let her. And if you didn't, I was going to stay with her. I love her, Doctor. So much. And I'm asking you to do this for me. _Please._ Save my wife."

He struggled to speak. He raised a hand to his face, passing it across his eyes, as he tried to think of a solution. Various possibilities ran through his mind, scenarios that might be possible, solutions that might just work, but he kept coming back to one thing time and time again: it was too late.

"Zoe, I can't," the Doctor said, lowering his hand so he could do her the courtesy of looking at her as he crushed the remains of her heart under the sole of his boot. "If I force the TARDIS through the Time Lock, it'll shatter and have an impact on the entire 18th century. It'll ripple out in both directions and create a rip in time and space that will grow and grow. I can't do that."

"You've done it before," she protested. "You've done worse things with bigger consequences than saving the life of one woman!"

"One woman who died when she was supposed to."

"She was supposed to die an old woman!" Zoe snapped, temper flaring as bright as a supernova. "After a lifetime with me. Not now! Not when there was so much she still wanted to do. Break the Time Lock!"

"I won't." He shook his head. "Zoe, I love you. You're my dearest friend, but I can't do this. Not even for you."

"Then what is the point of you?" She demanded, voice dripping with fury and hatred, and he flinched under the assault.

"I know it doesn't feel like it now," the Doctor said, ignoring the pain her words stabbed into him. "But this pain will fade in time, and it won't hurt so much. You'll hold her memory close, but it won't cripple you like it's doing now. I can promise you that."

"Spare me your pearls of Time Lord wisdom," she spat. "I don't care. All I care about is my wife and she's gone, so you can just go to hell."

"Be as angry at me as you want," he said evenly. "But you're not going to push me away, Zoe. You need someone to blame right now, so blame me. Hate me. But I'm right here for you, and I'm not going anywhere. You're my friend, I love you, and I'm here for you."

The expression on her face wavered and a crack in her anger led to her knees buckling. He stepped forward and caught her before she hit the ground.

"It hurts," she told him, pressing a hand against her chest. She looked up at him with wild, desperate eyes. "It feels like my heart's been ripped out of me. It hurts to breathe."

"I know," he said softly, moving closer to her. Se let him put his arms around her, her forehead resting against his shoulder as he rubbed her back. "I know it does. But I've got you."

She curled her fingers into his wet jumper and pressed her forehead against his collarbone.

"You're home now," the Doctor murmured to her. "You're okay."

* * *

 _Later Still_

The Doctor stood outside the door of Zoe's bathroom and stared at the pile of wet clothing left in the middle of the room. The black material was heavy and slick with water, and it was staining her rug; a pair of damp stockings that didn't even attempt to match her skin colour –and he vaguely wondered if there were such things that would suit her in the 18th century – were shed like snakeskin next to her sodden shoes. He wasn't sure if she wanted to keep them or not. He wondered if he needed to go back to Versailles and collect her things because she had nothing on her except the clothes on her back.

He strained his ears and listened to her in the bathroom. She was silent, and there was only the faint sound of the water in the bathtub shifting when she changed positions. Since he wasn't needed, he moved and picked up her clothes. He draped the stockings over his arms and lifted up the heavy dress. Why it was necessary for women to wear so many layers in Earth's past was beyond him. It struck him as ridiculous as the dresses restricted free movement and, in some cases, breathing.

He shook the dress out, droplets of water flying free, and something heavy fell from within onto the floor. He looked down curiously and tossed the dress over his shoulder, the material slapping wetly at his jacket, and he crouched. It was a small, golden metal purse with a chain intended to clasp it inside a dress: valuables and money kept inside for the canny traveller. It was cold from the rain, and he used his thumb to open it. Inside there were only a few items: a piece of paper with a sketch of Reinette, a letter with Zoe's name on the front, and a lock of golden-blonde hair tied up in a pale blue ribbon.

The Doctor closed it and put it carefully on Zoe's bed so that she could see it, feeling as though he had just stumbled upon something painfully intimate.

He left her bedroom with her wet clothes in his hands and made his way through the winding corridors of the TARDIS so that he could throw them into the washing machine. He liked his washing machine. Originally it came from Gallifrey and had come with the TARDIS but he had tinkered with it so much over the years that it was hard to tell whether any of it was originally Gallifreyan any more. It was set up to do clothes from all sorts of eras and planets and made it so that he never had to stop at a dry cleaner's, something he appreciated. Leaving her clothes to spin themselves clean and dry, he proceeded to the kitchen whilst feeling out of sorts and wrong footed.

Six years of Zoe's life had just passed him by, and he was disorientated by the unexpected change. He had expected it to be a few months at the very worst but had hoped for just a few days.

Instead, it was six years.

He wasn't sure how well Zoe was going to readjust back to life on the TARDIS, if she even wanted to stay, as in the last hour she had oscillated between cutting rage and vulnerable tears. It was clear that she needed help. Her grief made her volatile and twitchy, and he expected that it would continue to do so for some time. He entered the kitchen and scrubbed at his face, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the bottle Jack kept in there. He didn't drink much as it never had any effect on him but the sharp bite of the swill that Jack preferred helped to chase away from of the confusion and let him go about making dinner without losing a thumb to an overeager knife.

 _Married._

Zoe was married.

Or, he supposed widowed was actually the correct term.

A heavy sigh fell from his mouth, and he braced his hands on the counter in front of him, knife held in one hand as guilt and regret flowed through him. He should have stopped her. He should have done something other than let himself be bulldozed by the scrawny teenage girl he was enamoured with. Instead, he had let her shatter the time window and leap into the unknown with only her wits in her head and his sonic screwdriver in her hand. He thought about what he could have done differently, and short of knocking her unconscious and dragging her back to the TARDIS, he wasn't sure how he could have prevented her from doing what she did.

She was set on her goal and more stubborn than anyone he had ever met.

He tried to parse his strange and horrible day out in his mind but none of it made sense to him, and he was used to the strange and impossible. From the moment she had learnt what the ship was called to the moment he left her in the bathroom after an absence of six years, none of it made sense to him. It felt as though he was missing a key part of the puzzle, and he was certain she knew what it was. The problem with Zoe was that sometimes she didn't know what was important and what wasn't. Or at least she hadn't six years ago. Maybe the years had given her a wisdom that came with growing up, or maybe it had made her bitter, but he couldn't imagine that.

Zoe Tyler was, and always would be, a kind person.

The memory of her future self flashed before his eyes, and he held onto it: her smile, the teasing light in her eyes, and the familiar affection.

She would survive the grief that was currently pressing in on her, and she would become the woman he met only a month and a half ago. He just wasn't sure how to help her get there as the Zoe he knew and loved was gone. That girl didn't exist any more. She was someone new and different, someone he needed to get to know all over again. Some things would be the same, but it was as though she had regenerated and he was dealing with whole new behaviours and attitudes, likes and dislikes. He would learn them – and do so willingly – but he wasn't sure how to help this new Zoe.

Her grief would soon settle into a low, persistent ache, the likes of which he had lived with for years after his own wife's death. Living with that was often the hardest thing, but the weeks that stretched ahead of them as she moved out of the sharp agony of Reinette's death were unknown to him. After his wife died, there were long stretches of time in the immediate aftermath that he couldn't remember; simply acres of black memory where he knew he must have existed but the pain and grief had made him operate on autopilot as he swam through the first few days and weeks without Levokania.

As such, he didn't know how to help her at her initial point of grief.

Perhaps Jackie might. She lost Pete when Rose was young and she might...

 _Jackie_.

Everything stopped for one long, terrifying moment.

She was going to _murder_ him.

"Shit."

"Mind your language," Zoe said from behind him, her voice a soft breeze, and he jumped in surprise. He spun around and stared at her. She frowned. "Sorry. I – I don't know why I said that."

"It's fine," the Doctor said quickly, eyes sweeping over her and taking in her damp hair that was beginning to dry against her neck and shoulders, and the large, baggy jumper she wore that dropped down to her legging covered knees. "Nice bath?"

"Hot," she said simply. "Good."

"Yeah, I suppose hot baths weren't plentiful in the – _there,_ " he agreed, stumbling a little over his words. She just nodded, eyes flicking around the kitchen, taking it all in. "I'm making pad thai. I – you still like that, right?"

"Yeah."

She moved into the kitchen as though uncertain about her place there. He watched her but kept his distance from her, letting her find her place again. She knocked into her table and touched her thigh, surprised by the pain that bloomed out from the point of impact. She ran her fingers over the back of the chair and looked at the magnets on the fridge before she opened it and peered inside. The door shut. The door opened. Shut. Opened. Shut. Opened. He watched her, and she caught his eye unexpectedly, the door midway shut again. She blinked at him as though just realising he was there.

"It's a fridge."

"It is."

"It's funny," Zoe said, looking back at the fridge. "It's a thing that I've taken for granted my whole life, and I've never thought of it. Then I was trying to explain to Reinette what it was, and she was fascinated. All the little things that I just take for granted, she thought were the most amazing things in the world: Pens, hair ties, bras. God, she was fascinated by bras."

"I suppose they're more comfortable than corsets."

"Stays."

"I'm sorry?"

"They're stays," she corrected. "Corsets come later, apparently. I don't know. She was the one who liked fashion."

The Doctor didn't know what to say to that, and she shut the fridge door before flicking the the kettle on and off.

"I lost your screwdriver," Zoe said, not looking at him. "Well, I didn't lose it. I sort of destroyed it, but I did so with well-meaning intent so...yeah. It's gone."

He stared at her whilst the chicken began to burn in the pain. "Oh?"

"There was a Nereid," she explained, rubbing a tea bag between her thumb and forefinger before dropping it back into the tin. "And it wanted to go home, so I used the screwdriver to create an electric charge in the sea water to give it some extra juice. Sorry."

"No, that's – it's okay," he assured her, although he liked his sonic screwdriver but it wouldn't be difficult to make another one. "A Nereid, you say?"

"It was really big."

"Yeah, they are."

She sat down at the table and played with a pen that was on the surface. He cooked dinner to the sound of the _click-click_ from her depressing the nib in and out of the plastic tube. He set a plate of food down in front of her, and she picked up her chopsticks. For a moment, she didn't appear to know how to use them but memory kicked in, and she shifted her grip on them. They ate in silence for the simple fact that once she started eating, she seemed to realise that she was actually hungry. She didn't seem to care that the chicken was burnt and the sauce was gelatinous as she ate her plate of food and then what he hadn't eaten on his, drawing more colour to her cheeks.

"That was good," she said, rubbing one eye. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He put the dishes in the sink to deal with later and made them both a cup of tea: strong, just the way the Tyler women liked it. "Here. I guess you haven't had British tea in a while."

"I drink coffee now," she said, drawing the mug towards her and looking into its depths. "I tried their tea. It was awful. Coffee was the only thing that didn't make me want to scream. Well, that and wine."

She took an overly large mouthful of tea, and her eye twitched when she burned the roof of her mouth but she said nothing.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" The Doctor asked after a moment's silence, which he had spent weighing up the pros and cons of getting her to talk.

She looked up at him, wary. "Sure."

"How long were you married?"

"Just over a year," Zoe answered, her eyes skittering away from his, her fingers tightening on her mug. "It's April now. So...about fourteen months."

"And were you happy?" He asked because he needed to know that the last six years hadn't been awful for her; though Louis had said she was, he wanted to hear it from her own mouth.

An expression he had never before seen on her face appeared: soft, happy, sad, pained were all mixed together on the canvas that was her face.

"I was," she said in a whisper. "In the end, I was very happy."

He swallowed against the dryness in his mouth and took a bracing sip of his tea.

"Will you tell me about it?" He asked carefully when he was done. "Your time there?"

She looked lost again, as though she was slipping away from him and drawing into herself. "I don't know where to start."

"What happened when you arrived?" He prompted delicately, and she nodded slowly, her mind pulling the memory up out of the ether; it played through her mind like an old song she had once known.

"With the time windows broken," she began. "The clockwork androids just shut down and the danger was gone. I had Louis have some servants take them apart and hide the pieces around France. Now that I think about it, that's really going to confuse some archaeologists one day." He just nodded. "That night - the first night – I stood at a window and looked up at the stars and wondered what the hell I'd done. I was beginning to panic when Reinette arrived. She understood what I'd given up, for her, and she..."

With great care, Zoe began to tell the tale of the last six years of her life as the Doctor listened with rapt attention.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter Forty**

 _Day Four (Post-Reinette)_

The Doctor stood in the doorway of the old music room that he hadn't seen or used in centuries. It wasn't unusual that some rooms slipped in and out of the main section of the ship as it all depended on what he needed at any given time – or what his moods were, and they were as varying as his ship. The kitchen, console room, medical bay, library, and bedrooms were mainstays and filled the central living hub but sometimes a door would appear that would lead him into a room he had never seen before, or a room he hadn't seen in years. He therefore wasn't too surprised to find an unfamiliar door where a normally blank wall lay undisturbed. He pushed it open, and the sound of music reached his ears.

Inside the room, it was dusty and unused: a stale smell clung to the air. None of that seemed to bother Zoe though as she was sat at an old grand piano; it was she who was creating the music that he could hear. A mournful melody rose up from the ivory keys and filled the air as her fingers moved with careful precision across the surface, head slightly bent even though she was playing from memory. He was certain she hadn't been able to play the piano before she left. He remembered her briefly mentioning how she had wanted to learn as a child but there was never any money for lessons back when she was young.

A skill she had picked up in France then.

He didn't disturb her, or let her know that he was there. He just stood and listened to the music that flowed from her fingers.

He didn't know if she had slept the night before even though she had left his company with an excuse of tiredness and had retired to her bedroom. She hadn't told him everything after dinner, but it was enough to be getting on with. He had heard only the highlights of her time in France: the difficulties of adjusting, teaching children in Paris, the Nereid, _Reinette._ There was a lot to say about Reinette, but she kept getting lost in the minutiae. He knew how Reinette liked her coffee in the morning (a splash of milk but no sugar), and what her laugh sounded like (musical when she was laughing for politeness sake; rough and husky when she was really amused), but he didn't learn much about their relationship.

That would come in time, if at all.

It wasn't something he intended to press her on.

"That was lovely," the Doctor said when the last carrying echo of the melody faded. She looked over her shoulder at him and looked tired, so he doubted if she had slept much. "When did you learn to play?"

"About a year after I arrived, I think," she replied, dancing her fingers lightly across the keys so lightly that no sound came from the instrument. "Reinette thought it would help me to acclimatise if I had something to fill my time with. I had music lessons, history, politics, Latin, French. I'm quite the accomplished young woman now."

He recognised her humour bleeding through even if her tone didn't match her words.

"You always were." Her eyes narrowed at him, and he smiled. "Are you hungry? I can make you pancakes if you want. They won't even be banana."

Her mouth didn't even attempt a smile at his joke.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said, looking away from him. The sharpness of her cheekbones concerned him but she would eat when she ate, so he pushed that worry from his mind.

"Can I take you somewhere today?" He asked her, and she looked back at him, silently questioning and already on the edge of saying no. "I – um – I want to take you to Reylar. It might be helpful for you to talk to Yatta about everything that's happened."

"I don't need therapy, Doctor."

"I think maybe you do," he said carefully, moving into the room so that he wasn't blocking the doorway any more. "And there's no shame in it. Talking to Yatta helped you before."

"I had nightmares about that," Zoe told him, her index finger pressing down on a key; it sounded throughout the room: a single, plaintive sound. "For months after I arrived. I kept dreaming that I was back in that cell, and I couldn't get away from them. There was always a moment when I woke up that I thought I was still there, but then Reinette would appear to help calm me. I was in this state of confusion, not sure where I was or where I belonged." Another finger came down on a key, and the same sad tone filled the air. "I never knew what was worse at the time: being on Tolandra or being trapped in the past."

The Doctor let her words sink into him.

"Just talk to her," he suggested. "And then I won't ask again if you don't want to go back."

Her eyes met his. Her jaw worked slightly as though she wanted to say something sharp and cutting, but in the end she just sighed and turned her back on him. Her fingers fell back onto the piano, and the same song came from the tips of them. The music filled the room. He listened for a small moment, wondering if he should get a verbal answer, but she didn't actually say no and so he landed the TARDIS on Reylar anyway and went to get her. She was exactly where he had left her, but she was no longer playing any music. Her fingers were just a dragging pressure across the keys.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

He spoke her name. She rose from her seat, like a puppet whose strings were tightened, and went with him without complaint. His chest felt tight and heavy at her pliability. She had to be reminded to put her shoes on, which took longer than it should have done with slip ons because she was marvelled over the simplicity of them and a stream of words detailing her complicated boots fell from her mouth. He listened to her patiently: anything that gave her a reason to talk about the past six years deserved his attention. They finally stepped outside, and when they did, she paused and blinked. He was reminded of newborn babies when they were removed from the loom and brought into the bright light of the world.

Reylar was as beautiful as she remembered.

The blue sea shone and glittered like diamonds beneath the bright light of the planet's two suns; small sail boats were out on the water, their occupants casting the occasional fishing line or simply jumping off the sides with shrieks of laughter and delight. She stared out at the ocean, reminded of La Rochelle; she took in the sight of barely clad humanoids that moved about the sweltering sea city with ice creams in hands and laughter on their lips. It seemed as though they had arrived in the middle of the tourist season. Not that it made a real difference for Reylar was beautiful all year around and generally filled with people from all over the sector who were looking for a quick getaway from their lives.

The Doctor offered his arm but she didn't notice it, distracted as she was by being on an alien planet for the first time in six years. She pressed the balls of her feet into the ground and rolled lightly, testing the slightly different gravity. She jumped when he put his hand on her back to guide her through the crowd of people. He had parked outside of Yatta's building so the walk wouldn't be far, and he took her up in the large glass lift to the correct floor. He had made the appointment for her when he thought she was sleeping and had given Yatta's receptionist a brief rundown of what had happened since their last meeting: a week from Yatta's perspective, much longer from Zoe's.

He waited with her in the generically pleasant waiting room. His eyes took in the modern art that adorned the wall, and his knee bounced as he waited, drawing an annoyed look from Zoe. He quelled the bouncing and put his hands in his lap so that he didn't start tapping his fingers against the side of the faux-wood chairs.

"Zoe." Yatta smiled widely from the door to her office, her purple hair dark and jewelled beneath the artificial light. Her eyes flicked over Zoe as though exhibiting a polite interest but she was cataloguing the physical changes. "Hello. Come on in when you're ready."

"I'll wait here for you," the Doctor said, rising with her.

"Don't bother," Zoe replied. "I'll catch up with you later."

"It's no trouble," he said with a smile. "I can just –"

"Doctor," she interrupted him, and his mouth clamped shut. " _Go._ Find something to do."

"Okay, yeah, sure," he said with a nod before he pushed both hands into the pockets of his jacket and searched quickly. "Before I forget – here." He removed her phone and held it out to her. "You left it behind when..."

"Thanks," she said and took the phone from him, holding it tightly in one hand as she walked through the open door into Yatta's office, body stiff and radiating displeasure.

The Doctor stared at the closed door with a worried expression.

"Right," he said to himself. "She'll be fine. Yeah."

* * *

 _Day Six_

The Doctor rapped his knuckles against Zoe's bedroom door. It was eleven in the morning according to the clock he kept to British time so Zoe and Rose knew when to call home and not wake Jackie in the middle of the night.

"Zoe? You awake yet?"

He cracked open her bedroom door and peered inside. There was a human shaped mound on her bed with the covers pulled tightly around her body. It was dark in the room; the usual low lights that slowly increased in luminosity to mimic a sunrise were in a tangled pile of wires on the floor. He frowned and made his way towards her bed, using the light from the corridor to help navigate the unusual mess that was her bedroom floor.

"Zoe?" He reached down and touched her shoulder. "You okay in there?"

"Go. Away."

Her voice was muffled by the covers, and he hesitated over her.

"I think you might be better off getting up," the Doctor said, curling his fingers into the duvet to pull it off her. "You can be sad in the library."

She moved quicker than he expected. She grabbed her book from the bedside table and hurled it at his head. He ducked just in time, and it soared out into the corridor where it landed face down and open on the ground.

"GET OUT!"

* * *

 _Day Eighteen_

The smell of bleach was a strong, unpleasant one, and the Doctor wrinkled his nose when it hit him in the corridor outside of the kitchen. Music was blaring from within. He recognised the playlist as belonging to Jack. It was an eclectic mix of music from various centuries on Earth but with a focus on the twentieth; there were various types of music that he could discern only through the heavy pounding beats that shook the spatula and ladle above the stove. He peered around the corner into the room and found what he expected: Zoe, in a state of frenzied cleaning.

Her hair was on top of her head with blue cloth hair band tied off around it in a bow. She was dressed in a pair of grey sweat pants and a baggy T-shirt that had a small hole under the armpit and a perpetual stain on the stomach. She was in a pair of raggedy trainers and was dancing along to the music as her dominant arm went back and forth furiously, rubber gloved hand scrubbing at the grouting behind the stove where flecks of oil generally ended up. The entire kitchen was in a state of upheaval with cupboards emptied and wide open, the insides glistening from her cleaning battle.

"Why are you cleaning?" The Doctor asked, raising his voice above the din of heavy metal music that she was head banging along to.

"It needs doing!" Zoe yelled back, straightening up and drawing her arm across her forehead. She offered him a grin, and his hearts gave a lurch at the sight of that grin on her face. She looked like herself for a brief moment, instead of the gaunt ghost that seemed to haunt the TARDIS in place of her. "Want to help?"

He really didn't but she was smiling and dancing and there was a possibility of hearing her laugh, so he rolled up the sleeves of his jumper and picked up a pair of rubber gloves, snapping them on over his fingers. She grinned widely at him, teeth straight and white, before she tossed a sponge in his direction and turned her attention back to the grout.

His mouth twitched in fondness before he dunked his sponge into the water and joined her at the stove top.

* * *

 _Day Twenty-Two_

"If I eat another banana, I think I'm going to throw up," Zoe muttered under her breath to the Doctor who was seated next to her, a crown of banana skins atop his head; he looked as though he was having a brilliant time.

"They're good for you."

"They're also full of potassium," she groaned, hand on her stomach. "And I think I can get potassium poisoning."

"Here, drink this," he said, pouring her a glass of water and handing it to her for her to sip at whilst the dance continued in front of them. "For beings without joints, they can dance really well."

"It's more hopping than dancing, I'd say," Zoe replied, casting her eye out over the locals of the planet that they found themselves on: small, Ewok type creatures who were friendly and so incredibly grateful to the Doctor. "But it's kind of charming, I suppose."

The Doctor grinned at her before quickly clapping to show his appreciation for the dance when it came to a loud, shuddering end. At his side, Zoe did the same though a little more half-heartedly as the bananas were sitting ill with her.

He hadn't intended for them to go anyway new that day but she was in good spirits over breakfast, and he liked to capitalise on that of late since he never knew when he was going to get a Zoe who was willing to throw herself back into the universe, or a Zoe who wanted to curl into a ball and cry herself into oblivion. As such, he set the TARDIS off spinning into the Time Vortex to land them somewhere new, and they had stepped out onto the planet of Bob: a rather lovely place despite its peculiar name. None of the inhabitants knew exactly why the planet was named Bob but Zoe quite liked it, and she felt that other planets should be called by such names.

Initially, the natives hadn't been as friendly as their furry little bodies and smiling faces led them to believe. They were starving and viewed Zoe and the Doctor as a much needed meal and had taken them captive. In the process of preparing Zoe and the Doctor for their evening meal, the Doctor spied banana trees all around them. It took a little bit of diplomacy and a lot of persuasion but the Doctor got one of the natives to peel open a banana so he could bite into it and show them that it wasn't poisonous. Since the locals didn't need a varied diet, they just needed the calories, the bananas perfectly fulfilled that role. They released Zoe and the Doctor whilst they gorged themselves sick on the bananas before proceeding to honour the Doctor as the Banana Giver.

A name that Zoe already hated and wouldn't let him use once they left Bob.

"I've always said that bananas are good," the Doctor told her, unable to stop his pleased smile from stretching across his face. He spread his hands to encompass the new dance that was taking place before them. "And this, Zoe Tyler, just proves it."

"You're going to be insufferable from now on, aren't you?" She asked heavily, resigned to her fate, even as the corners of her lips began to turn up.

He winked at her. "Maybe a little."

She coughed to cover her laugh.

* * *

 _Day Thirty-Three_

Zoe cut through the water of the Olympic sized swimming pool that she had come across that morning when looking for something to do. It wasn't like the resting pool she enjoyed using most of the time. In that pool she submerged herself in water with jets and soothing music so she could read her book at the same time. The one she had discovered whilst trailing around the TARDIS looking for something to do by herself was a proper swimming pool that she couldn't touch the bottom of but that she could swim length after length until she exhausted herself enough that she might just be able to sleep at some point during the day.

She moved through the water, her body not quite used to strenuous water-based exercise. To stay in shape in France, she had mainly ridden horses and watched what she ate, but swimming was using muscles she hadn't used in a long time.

She slipped under the water and performed a somersault so that she could plant her feet against the wall and push off of it, resurfacing smoothly. She turned her head to one side and breathed in, pushing herself forwards, using her arms to drag her on and her legs to kick her faster. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest, and her body was aching painfully. She needed to stop soon or else her body would make her stop but she could do one more lap. She _wanted_ to do one more lap as focusing on keeping her stroke neat and powerful meant that she wasn't thinking about Reinette's final hours and that awful rattling breath in her chest that haunted Zoe's waking hours.

The water cut around her and she reached out and grasped hold of the edge of the pool, pulling herself close and drawing in deep breaths to try and fill her body with oxygen again. She pressed her forehead against the hard edge and squeezed her eyes shut. She could feel Reinette's skeletal hand in hers and the lost, unseeing look in her eyes as she called for her mother who was long dead, her ex-husband who was long gone, and who stared at Zoe with an uncertain, scared look on her face. The pain of it all tightened in her, and she opened her mouth in a silent scream before she looked up suddenly.

"Hello," the Doctor said from above her. He dropped into a crouch, blue eyes flicking over her in that same expression of concern that was comforting and infuriating all at the same time, though she couldn't say why. "Good swim?"

"It's a nice pool," Zoe said, just holding onto the edge, not sure she could pull herself out without his help as her arms felt like sore jelly.

"I don't think I've ever seen it before," he admitted, and she enjoyed the fact that the TARDIS shared some secrets with her; although, a swimming pool was hardly a secret. "Sometimes I wonder if I should map out the TARDIS."

"Might take more lifetimes than even you have," she pointed out, and his thoughtful expression softened into a smile.

"Maybe."

"Did you need something?" She asked him, pushing her wet hair from her face so she could look at him unimpeded.

"Oh, I've just been thinking," he said with a shake of his head. She raised her eyebrows and waited. "It's been about a month since you came home, and I just wondered if you wanted to stop by and see your mum. Maybe pick up Rose and Jack from Nibiru as well?"

She stared at him before looking away.

It wasn't that she had forgotten her family, but now she had the opportunity to see and speak to them again, she found herself hesitant. For six years, she had spent days and weeks aching to see them until that ache faded into something dull and manageable that only hurt when she poked at it. The thought of seeing her mum and sister again filled her with a blind terror that took her breath away. If she saw them, then she would have to tell them what happened. She would have to tell them about Reinette, and she didn't know how to do that. In all of her scenarios of returning home, Reinette was there with her, but she was alone now. She had the Doctor and he understood. He had met Reinette, even though it was for the briefest of moments, but he understood. She wasn't sure she could get Jackie and Rose to understand the whole situation.

Married.

Widowed.

Six years older.

How was she supposed to explain that away when just thinking about everything hurt more than she thought was possible?

"I –" Zoe began, and the Doctor waited. "No. Not yet. I'm not...not yet."

He looked at her before nodding. "Okay. Just let me know when you change your mind."

"I will," she promised, grateful for his unquestioning acceptance. "Thanks."

He flashed her a smile. "Enjoy your swim."

She watched him leave before she let go of the side and sank down into the water. She stayed below the surface until her lungs hurt from holding in the oxygen, which she released from her in a scream that made air bubbles race to the surface.

* * *

 _Day Forty_

The Doctor sensed something was wrong, and he snapped his eyes open. He drew in a sharp, surprised breath when he saw Zoe sitting next to him, silently watching him sleep. He just stared at her, blinking once, uncertain if he was dreaming or not when she reached out and touched his jaw, her thumb pressing against his bottom lip.

"I'm sorry," she said, and she sounded like her normal self, just a little dull and worn thin.

"What for?"

"For hitting you."

"You didn't hit me," the Doctor said, confused, but he didn't dare sit up in case he spooked her away.

"I did," she murmured, working her thumb back and forth. "In Paris, when I saw you again."

"Oh." He remembered the bright flare of pain that was chased away by his surprise at her having struck him. He hadn't thought about it beyond healing his split lip when she was sleeping that first night. "It doesn't matter."

"It does," Zoe said, her eyes like pale lights in his darkened room. "It does matter."

He reached up and covered her hand with his, kissing her fingers whilst not letting his eyes drift from her. She sat there with him for hours, in the dark and the silence, letting the air stretch between them.

* * *

 _Day Fifty-Eight_

"Doctor. Ms Tyler," the arachnid host greeted with a strange scuttling incline of its large head, its legs bending as it did so. "Welcome to the End of the Universe. If you will follow me?"

Zoe reached out and caught hold of the Doctor's elbow. She leaned in close to him. "That's a very large spider."

"That's a Nossian," he explained, tucking her hand into his elbow as they followed the host through the large restaurant that could fit a thousand football pitches inside but wasn't as loud as Zoe thought it should be. "An interesting species. Their common ancestor is a Racnoss who are significantly less pleasant: planet eaters, if you will. If you ever come across a Racnoss, best thing to do is just run back to the TARDIS. Anyway, the Nossians developed here on the furthest edge of the universe. Their home planet is caught in an eternal gravitational pull with the universe's edge."

"How does that even work?" She asked, bewildered as they were led past hundreds of tables and into the VIP section that was quieter and more expensive.

"Honestly? I'm not sure."

"Good Lord," she blinked. "You don't know something. This really is the end of the universe."

"Ha, ha," he mocked, and she grinned at him.

"Your table, sir, ma'am," the Nossian said, and it pulled out two chairs at the same time. Zoe's stomach tightening as she watched the hairy, muscular legs in action. "Would you like something to drink for the table?"

"Just water, thanks," the Doctor replied whilst Zoe edged discreetly around the hairy legs to sit down. He grinned at her when the host was gone. "Not like you to be speciest."

She flipped him off, and he snorted.

"That was a giant spider," Zoe told him. "And I'm sure it's a perfectly lovely being but it's still a giant spider. It's like the Alfasi all over again."

"The who now?" He asked quickly, frowning. "Since when did you meet the Alfasi?"

"Er – a few years ago, I think," she said. "Three, maybe four. They were killing street children in order to convert them into fuel for their ship, and Reinette and I put a stop to it." He raised his eyebrows. "Which reminds me, what did you do that made them so afraid of you?"

"They fought on the edge of the Time War," he said, pouring her some water that appeared via a transmat. "On my side, not that it made any difference in the end. We were all as bad as each other." He wiped the sombre look from his face. "Talking about me with strange aliens, were you?"

"Pretending to be you, actually," she confessed, slightly embarrassed by the admission. "They weren't really taking me seriously, so I pulled out the big guns and did the whole _I'm the Doctor_ skit."

"It's not a skit." He rolled his eyes. "How did it go?"

"They left Earth, and as far as I know, they haven't been back," she said. "So fairly well, I'd say."

He lifted his glass. "To you, _Doctor_ Tyler."

"Oh, shut up," she laughed, a welcome sound after weeks without hearing it properly. She clinked her glass against his. "Now, tell me about this restaurant. What exactly did Douglas Adams get right?"

"A whole hell of a lot," the Doctor said, and she rested her chin in his hand as she listened to him expound on the restaurant at the edge of the universe, feeling happy and content for the first time in a long time.

* * *

 _Day Fifty-Nine_

Zoe held the covers tightly over her head, eyes squeezed shut, and she listened as the Doctor left her bedroom. He closed the door behind him. She released the breath that she was holding and pressed her face into her pillow, hot tears spilling from her eyes, unable to move from her bed that day.

* * *

 _Day Seventy-Five_

"Ah!"

"Zoe!"

"I'm all right!" Zoe called back, laughing, and she stared up at the Doctor from the side of the water hill, her hand sank into the water so that she could hold on. Her eyes shone with happiness and delight. "I just lost my footing."

"You good?"

"I'm good," she reassured him. "Keep going."

He turned back around and continued climbing up the side of the water hill whilst she found her footing again. They were on the planet of Qarth, a water planet that was fame for the water hills that rose up out of the oceans and trembled in place. No one knew how long each hill would stay for, and various cries of surprise sounded out as the hills disappeared beneath the people on them, sending them plunging into the warm water for the tourist boats to come and fish them out. Zoe marvelled as she dug her hands into the water. She could only get a proper hand hold just by pressing her fingers through the surface of the water that solidified under the touch, turning into a strange hard gel that just supported her weight. She felt as though she was climbing through slime; it was the incredibly fun, even though she was thoroughly soaked.

She followed the Doctor up the side of the hill that they had claimed for their own. It was a little out of the way, and their boat operator below was sitting with her feet propped up, cap pulled low over her eyes, having a nap whilst they climbed. It was a huge hill of water, and her arms ached by the time she reached the top. He helped her the last few feet, unusually dressed in a pair of swimming trunks that went down to just above his knees; she was also in a swimming costume – her normal red one that she used on the TARDIS. She put her hand in his, and he pulled her up, making her laugh when her feet left the side of the water hill. She grabbed hold of his shoulder so she didn't fall back down the side. She _really_ didn't want to have to climb up again.

"Oh my god," Zoe breathed, laughter etched on her face. She turned and took in the view of the ocean with everyone climbing up their own water hills. It shone beneath the setting sun, turning rosy-pink as sea life moved beneath the surface. "This is gorgeous."

"It really is," the Doctor agreed, not as out of breath as she was but he drew in deep lungfuls of air anyway. "Do you taste that? In the air?"

She stuck her tongue out and looked at him. "What is it?"

"Wait for it."

Her eyes went wide, and her tongue remained stretched out. "It's sherbet!"

"It's actually the spray of the sea," he corrected fondly as she drew her tongue back into her mouth. "The migratory nature of the local sea life causes the sea to turn this rosy-pink colour as it's mating season. The hormones they exude change the colour of the water...and the taste of it."

"So I just had sea-life excretion on my tongue?" She asked with a strange expression, and he beamed at her.

"Yep."

She laughed.

She tilted her head back and let the breeze wash across her damp skin. Qarth was beautiful, and she had had a wonderful day with the Doctor. He had taken her to the single best seafood restaurant she had ever visited and wanted to go to again. The food they served was similar to sushi but the fish they used was tastier than anything she had tried on Earth. They had swam in the water, gone scuba diving, and explored the local marine life by tourist boat before making their way to the water hills so that they could watch the sunset. It was a blissfully happy day yet sadness crept into her, stealing away some of her bright happiness and enjoyment. She hugged her arms as she tried to fight against the encroaching grief.

"Cold?" The Doctor asked, dropping an arm around her to rub at her flesh.

"No, sorry, I'm fine."

She flashed him a smile, but he knew her too well for her to fool him like that.

"Reinette?" He said understandingly and tears pressed against the back of her eyes as her throat tightened.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, pulling from his arms to clear her throat and dash her fingers beneath her eyes. "I don't mean to keep ruining things like this. It just hits me out of the blue sometimes."

"You don't need to apologise," the Doctor told her, voice low and sympathetic, serving only to make her want to cry more. "I understand."

"I know," she nodded, swallowing hard and looking up at him. "I know you do. I just...I know you said it gets better but in the moments when I'm happy and enjoying myself it feels like – like I'm –"

"Like you're betraying Reinette," he finished for her, and she nodded. "It's easy for me to say that you're not but think about the woman she was. Would she want you to live your life in constant sadness?"

"God, no," Zoe said with a weak, wet life. "She'd be frustrated with me. She always thought I was too emotional, particularly in public. She liked it but she never quite got it."

"Well, she was an aristocrat," he said thoughtfully. "Different rules for them."

"Yeah."

"It's okay to enjoy things," the Doctor reminded her, putting his arm back around her so he could hold her against his chest. His chest hair tickled her nose. "It doesn't mean you love her any less."

She brought her hands up to rest against his side. "You're so patient with me."

He turned his face into the top of her wet hair. "You'd do the same if our positions were reversed."

She nodded against his chest, slowly regaining control of her emotions, and she looked up at him – at his face that was so familiar and dear to her. She opened her mouth to tell him how much she appreciated him when the water hill shook, and it disappeared back into the open water. A scream was pulled from her mouth as they plummeted and hit the water. She resurfaced, laughing, the sadness chased from her by the ridiculousness of their situation.

The Doctor splashed her with water before they made their way back to their boat.

* * *

 _Day Ninety_

"Zygons!" Zoe exclaimed furiously. "Why is it always the _bloody_ Zygons?"

"Maybe you just look young for your age!"

"I'm twenty-four!" She protested, jumping over a large pile of rubble as the Zygons chased after them, weapons firing, making the earth explode around them. "I'm not seventeen any more!"

"Well, they keep mistaking you for a baby Zygon, so maybe it's your face!"

"My face!?"

"I like your face but _clearly_ it screams Zygon baby to them!"

"I hate you!"

"No, you don't!"

* * *

 _Day One hundred and Twelve_

"All right," the Doctor said, setting up the whiteboard in the library because apparently Zoe didn't like the sound of chalk against a blackboard. "Attempt number two."

"What happened to attempt number one?"

"You threw a book at my head and called me a patronising git."

"Well, if the shoe fits," Zoe said archly, clearly still sore about the last time she was in the library with him. The look on her face made him wonder if he should have worn protective gear for their lesson, but she wasn't often prone to fits of violence and so he thought he might just be okay. "Just don't be an ass and this will go fine."

"I wasn't –!" He began to protest, but he cut himself off, not wanting to start off their day with a fight. He took a deep breath, and she grinned at him, clearly aware that she was annoying him. He would have been happy with the teasing if she wasn't so frustrating. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we? Flying a TARDIS is difficult even when there are the normal six pilots and everyone has functioning time senses. It's much harder when you're a human and time blind."

She jotted down the notes in her blue notebook, having lost the last one when she had used it as a missile the previous day.

It was his idea to teach her the mechanics of flying the TARDIS. Either she had forgotten about her desire to learn to fly it or she simply hadn't thought about it since she had come back, but he thought it might be useful to have another person on the TARDIS – and in the universe – who knew how to fly his ship. He didn't want another situation where she had to go through the time window because he was the only one who could fly the TARDIS. She was in an apathetic mood when he approached her, unable to settle to any one particular task, so the bright light that sparked in her eyes when he offered to teach her reassured him that he was making the right decision.

She was a remarkably quick learner, something that didn't particularly surprise him, and she followed along with his large number of diagrams and tumbling explanations. It was difficult to describe the mechanics of TARDIS flight in English. He wished she spoke Gallifreyan as it would have been much easier to communicate the information to her, but he found himself teaching her in a mixture of English and French, the two languages complimenting each other when one lacked a word or saying that the other had.

After six hours of intensive classroom learning, he let her take a break where she attempted to drown herself in coffee before he took her to the console room.

"We're parked at the moment," the Doctor told her once he had explained what all the buttons and levers did. To his dismay, she left sticky notes on each of them so she could remember their function, but it was better than the label maker she had wanted to use. "Earth, 1899."

"Any particular reason?" Zoe asked, tearing off another yellow post-it to place it against the zig-zag lever.

"It's a boring year," he said with a small shrug. "Temporally speaking, of course."

"Of course."

"And all I want you to do is to put the TARDIS into the Time Vortex," the Doctor said. "I won't touch a thing unless you're in danger of blowing up the universe."

"Is that likely?" She asked, a touch of worry around her eyes.

"Anything's likely," he said. "But that's a little more unlikely than the rest."

"All right," Zoe said, snapping her notebook closed and handing it to him. He took it, and she put her pen behind her ear. If she was wearing a shirt with sleeves, she would have pushed them up her arms in preparation. "I need to first activate the temporal engines, which is the snot-coloured button here."

She pressed the button. When nothing blew up, she smiled.

"Then I need to make sure that the shields are working," she continued, working her way around the console. "And the computer says yes, so yay. Next, I need to plot a course, which is the longitude and latitude of where we are now. So, if I put that into the system..." her tongue pressed against her teeth as she carefully input the data. "Then, I now have to initiate the whirlpool –"

"Not it's name," the Doctor said with an eye roll, arms folded across his chest from behind her.

"I can't pronounce it's name, so it's the whirlpool," she countered. "Now, hush up, I'm thinking."

He smirked.

"With the whirlpool going –" she took hold of two levers. "All I need to do is..."

She pulled slightly back on the levers, and the Time Rotor started to go whilst the TARDIS wheezed around them. Her eyes snapped to the parking brake.

"Oops," Zoe said, and she reached out to flick the parking brake off. The wheezing, groaning sound stopped. She looked to the Doctor with wide eyes. "Did I break it?"

"You're fine," he said. "I just leave it on because I like the sound."

"Weirdo," she grinned, and she felt the strength of the TARDIS beneath her hands as she guided the ship into the Time Vortex. "Oh my god, I'm flying the TARDIS."

"Yes, you are," the Doctor said, impressed. He dropped his arms and approached her so that he stood at her back. "Careful. You're getting a little too close to the 19–" there was a violent shake. "80s."

Her eyes went wide. "What I do?"

He checked the computer screen. "You've dented the 1980s."

"I've what?"

"Put a little dent in them," he told her. "It's fine. Happens all the time."

"What do I do now?" She asked, and his hands covered hers on the levers.

"Now, we fly."

* * *

 _Day One Hundred and Eighteen_

The Doctor smoothed the chocolate buttercream frosting around the rim of the cake, the open recipe book detailing the steps he needed to take in order to make sure that he didn't ruin the cake. He checked the next step as he wiped the excess cream against the rim of the bowl. He pushed the cake back to let the frosting set a little, checking in with the TARDIS to make sure Zoe was still in the swimming pool. It was supposed to be a surprise for her but it was unexpectedly difficult to keep his plans hidden from her. She knew that he was keeping something from her but she didn't push to know what it was. He just felt as though he was living in a state of secrecy.

It was her 25th birthday.

He had done the maths to make sure that they were celebrating on the right day, and he was positive that it was her birthday today. He had missed the last six and wanted to do something a little special, even if it was just the two of them. She didn't strike him as a person who enjoyed celebrating her birthday to the same extreme that Jack and Rose did but he also didn't want to let it past unnoticed. He had a present for her wrapped and on the table: a first edition, signed copy of Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. If she wanted to go somewhere, they could – he was prepared for that –, but he suspected she might prefer a quiet day on the TARDIS.

He just finished his clean up when the TARDIS pinged a warning into his mind: Zoe was on her way.

He hurried with the candles. He wanted to do all twenty-five, but time was against him and he just put five on the top, lighting them quickly. He turned around with the cake in his hands as she entered the kitchen wearing a pair of cotton shorts and an overlarge T-shirt.

"Happy birthday!" The Doctor cheered, and she reeled back in surprise, hand pressed against her chest. He hadn't meant to shout it at her. "Sorry, but happy birthday!"

"It's my birthday?" Zoe asked, bewildered, heart thrumming rapidly from the surprise.

"It is," he said. "I triple checked and everything. You are a whole twenty-five years old today. Congratulations. Although, I'm not sure why I'm congratulating you, but I've seen humans do it before so I think it's a thing. Is it a thing?"

Her mouth twitched. "It's a thing. Don't know why though."

"Congratulations then."

"You made me a cake?" She asked, lowering her hand from her chest and looking at the baked good in his hands.

He beamed. "I did."

"It doesn't have banana in it, does it?" She asked worriedly. "Because after Bob –"

"This is a banana free cake," he promised her. "Though, I think you're mad for not liking them."

She rolled her eyes. "It's not about not liking them, it's about not needing them in everything."

"Blah, blah, blah," he said. "Now make a wish and blow out your candles."

She pursed her lips, looking at him in amusement, before she moved forward to bend over the cake and blow out the candles. She looked up at him with a smile. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," he said, setting the cake down. "I've got you a present as well."

"You did?"

"Of course I did," the Doctor replied, handing her the wrapped book. He watched her unwrap it. She opened the fly leaf cover, and her mouth dropped open a little. "Don't worry, I didn't meet her without you. I found it in a charity shop when I went to pick up some milk."

"I love it," Zoe said, pressing her lips to his cheek in a kiss. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, ears burning. "Want some cake now?"

"Absolutely."

They ate their cake squashed together at the table. There was more than enough space for them to sit separately, but his surprise had put her in a good mood and so they sat so close together that they were practically on top of each other. Instead of cutting into the cake, they ate it directly with forks. She had him laughing as she told him about her sixth birthday party when Jackie had got her a piñata and she had swung the bat so wildly that she knocked out her mother's boyfriend at the time. He liked the mental image of a small, six-year-old Zoe Tyler wielding a bat to get sweets.

"When's your birthday?" Zoe asked in a brief lull in conversation, crumbs gathering in the corners of her mouth.

"I don't actually remember," he said. "It's got away from me a little bit, but it doesn't matter. You get to my age and birthdays aren't important any more. Time just sort of slips away from you."

"That sounds sad."

"Sometimes, but not all the time," the Doctor said. He reached out and brushed the crumbs from her mouth before he could stop himself. Embarrassed, he pulled his fingers back. "Have you changed your mind about seeing your mum yet?"

She shook her head. "Not yet."

"Okay."

* * *

 _Day One Hundred and Thirty-Three_

"Zoe?" The Doctor stuck his head around the door and his hearts sank at the sight of the Zoe shaped mound in the middle of the bed. It was another bad day then. "You getting up today?"

He expected silence as his response.

"Not today," her voice, heavy and filled with sadness and grief, replied.

"Anything I can do?" There was no response. She must have shaken her head beneath the blanket. "See you soon."

He shut the door behind him.

* * *

 _Day One Hundred and Fifty-One_

Zoe peered around the Doctor and looked into the room that he was showing her. Neither of them had been able to agree on what they wanted to do today and so he had offered to show her his favourite room on the TARDIS. Unable to resist _that_ insight into his mind, she agreed. It wasn't, he explained as they walked deeper into the TARDIS than she had ever been before, a room that he went to a lot because he saved it for when he needed it the most. She took that to mean when he was so lonely and so pained that nothing else would work for him. She wondered how much time he spent in this room after the Time War came to an end.

It wasn't what she expected.

"It's a storage room," she said, surprised. "A very nice storage room, but it's still a, you know, storage room."

"Come on in," the Doctor said, stepping to one side so that she could enter, and she stepped in after him.

The walls seemed to be made of stone, though she knew that was an illusionary trick, but it gave it a warm, rustic feel. Various items were stacked haphazardly on top of each other, and there were creaking wooden shelves in the middle of the room with a number of different glass items atop them. The Doctor let her wander and look around, her fingers reaching out curiously, and she picked up an old portable radio that was popular in the 1960s. She depressed the button and tinny music spilled out. She looked around at him curiously.

"John Smith and the Common Men," the Doctor explained. "Relatively popular in the early 60s."

She stopped the music. "And you kept a radio with their music?"

"It's not mine," he said, mouth a little dry. "It was Susan's."

"Your granddaughter?" She questioned, and he nodded. She looked down at the device in her hand and put it down with touching gentleness. She looked around the room. "What is this place?"

"Some people have photo albums," he shrugged, wondering if he needed to be embarrassed. "I have this room."

"These are all things from people you've known?" She asked, turning on her heel before coming to face him. "All of your friends? Family?"

"Yeah," he said, and he held out his hand to her. She took it, and he led her over to a set of bagpipes. "These were Jamie's. He was actually pretty good at them and would whip them out when he had a few drinks. I thought it'd be awful, but it wasn't."

There was a dog-eared book nearby. "This belonged to Zoe –"

"Another Zoe?" She asked, leaning into his arm, and he smiled down at her.

"Zoe Heriot," he said. "She was bright like you, and sometimes she was smarter than me. She didn't like reading fiction all that much but she loved this book. She left it behind when she left."

A fountain pen. "This is Sarah Jane's. She hated writing with anything but a fountain pen. After she left, I found it beneath a chair in the library."

He took her through each item and what it meant to him. She saw Charley's collection of postcards and magnets that he organised chronologically; Nyssa's notebooks; Adric's small stuffed duck; Barbara's handbag with her packet of cigarettes still untouched; Grace's button; and so many more things.

He seemed like a man who was forever moving on and leaving his past behind him, but the room was a perfect representation of who he saw himself to be: old, lonely, and living with the glorious memories of friendships passed. She held onto his hand tightly as he led her over to a final object, and she wondered what she was going to see – wondered if she wanted to see it at all as it hurt to see how much he had lost over the years. Losing Reinette was devastating for her, and she couldn't imagine continually opening herself up to heartbreak after heartbreak the way the Doctor did.

He tugged on the sheet draped over the object, and it fell away.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Oh, Doctor," Zoe breathed, voice heavy with emotion as she looked at the beautifully carved crib with crooked stars hanging on the mobile above it. "Is this –? Did your children sleep here?"

"And my grandchildren," the Doctor said, tenderly touching the wooden frame and letting his fingers drift over the chipped golden swirls. "And myself, once upon a time."

"You slept here?" She asked, softly amused. "I can't imagine you so tiny."

He smiled at that. "We're all young once."

"It's beautiful," Zoe said honestly. "This room, these items, this crib. All of it. It's so beautiful."

He leaned in so that he could kiss her forehead and blink away his tears. She smelt the warm, faint scent of his spicy aftershave, and she wanted to lean into him completely. It was a smell that comforted her and reminded her of home.

"I wanted you to see it," the Doctor told her quietly, pulling back from her forehead.

She didn't need to ask why. She understood that he was showing her that life went on, and it was sometimes sad but it was also mainly good.

She reached up and touched his cheek with her free hand. He leaned into her touch, and her thumb stroked across his stubble. "Thank you for showing me."

* * *

 _Day One Hundred and Sixty_

"I don't suppose you could lean your head this way, could you?" The Doctor asked conversationally once the guard left the cell that they were now imprisoned in.

Zoe swung her eyes towards him, looking rather lovely in a blue sundress even if it was wildly out of place in the Tower of London. "My head?"

"I want your bobby pins," he explained. "I might be able to pick the lock on these cuffs."

She looked dubious but she leant towards him anyway, and he buried his face in her hair that she had, fortunately, worn up that day as they were supposed to be going to the beach. Instead, he had landed them right in the middle of Prince Arthur's wedding to Katherine of Aragorn, and before they could get back in the TARDIS, they were being bundled away. An easy mistake, one anyone could make, but it did mean that they were now imprisoned in the Tower of London awaiting interrogation by torture and eventual execution. Hardly the worst situation they had ever been in but Zoe was cold in the cell and a little bit hungry as he had promised her breakfast on the beach so she had forgone her normal morning croissant.

It was the last time she was leaving the TARDIS without eating something.

"Got it," the Doctor said through a mouthful of her hair.

He pulled back, one of her stronger pins clasped in his mouth, and she watched him work it around before leaning over his shoulder and spitting it into his hands.

She raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Dextrous."

"Part of my physiology," he explained, one eye squeezed shut as he got to grips with the pin in his fingers and started to pick the lock. "Unlike humans, all Gallifreyan muscles tend to be used for something, including tongues."

"Your girlfriends have been very lucky then," Zoe said, and he looked at her before colour flooded his cheeks and his mouth dropped open.

"Zoe Tyler!"

"Oh, don't sound so horrified." She rolled her eyes, amused by him. "I know about sex now. _Obviously._ In fact, if you want to start dating again at any point, I can probably give you a few tips about what women like."

"I'm begging you to stop talking," he said, not looking at her, and she closed her eyes with a huffing laugh. She stopped teasing him and listened to the sounds of him wrestling free of his cuffs before –

"Aha!" The Doctor exclaimed. She opened his eyes, and he was free. He reached for his sonic screwdriver – the same version as the last one, just a little shinier. "Out you pop. We need to make a run for it."

The cuffs sprung loose around her wrists, and she rubbed the flesh where the metal had dug in.

"Might be best if we wait until early morning," Zoe said, rising to her feet and peering out of the thin slat in the wall to see the sun just beginning to set. "So we have a clear run at the TARDIS. I don't fancy an arrow in my back."

"Good point," he nodded, and he looked around the cell, face falling. "Well, this is anti-climatic. Want to play charades?"

"Go on then."

* * *

 _Day Two Hundred_

Soft sniffling sounds made the Doctor pause in the Gallifreyan fiction section of his library where he was looking for a book that he couldn't quite remember how it ended. He had read it centuries ago, and it kept sneaking back into his mind of late; so, to get it out, he planned to hunt it down but he couldn't remember the name of it, or the author, only the fact that it had a blue cover, which admittedly wasn't a lot to go on. He looked around, wondering where the sound was coming from, and he quietly followed it down the stairs, past Earth fiction and paused. He tilted his head to one side like a blood hound and padded his way into the large non-fiction section. He walked past scientific journals, art history books, linguistic books, old gossip magazines, until he found himself in the Earth history section.

He stuck his head around a book shelf and found Zoe sitting on the floor, tucked away into the shadowed corners, a book open in her lap and tears dripping down her face as she tried desperately to muffle her sounds. Sometimes she reminded him of a child the way she tried to suppress her agony: long sleeve held over her mouth, curling in on herself as the pressure built in her throat. Her shoulders shook, the occasional noise spilling forth.

She turned her face away from him when he sat down next to her and peeked at the page she had open. His hearts sank. It was open on a portrait of Reinette. Not a very good one from what he remembered of her but close enough that it would effect Zoe so strongly.

"Oh, Zoe," The Doctor sighed softly, taking the book from her lap and closing it. He sat next to her and worked his arm between her and the wall. She tipped into him, her hand on his chest as she clutched at him, her anchor in the storm of her emotions. "Why are you torturing yourself like this?"

"I don't have a picture of her," she sobbed into his chest, the sounds pulled from her was agony to his ears. "I have a sketch but I can't – I woke up, and I couldn't remember how many freckles she had on her shoulder. I wanted – I hoped the library would have an actual photograph, but it hurts. Doctor, it hurts."

"I know," he whispered, cradling her head against him. "It's okay. Just let it all out."

She sobbed her fresh grief out against his chest. He held her, gently rocking her back and forth whilst making soft, soothing sounds against her forehead.

"I've got you."

* * *

 _Day Two Hundred and Nineteen_

"That's you," the Doctor said as he stared up at Zoe painted on a canvas that was hung on the wall of the Louvre in the Richelieu Wing. He looked from the painting to the woman standing at his side. "I mean...that's you."

"Reinette painted it," Zoe explained, and her voice was even and smooth. "About a year before we got married."

"And you saw this when?"

"After I met you, but before I started travelling with you."

"I remember," the Doctor said with a small frown of remembrance. "Jackie took you to Paris to celebrate the end of your exams."

"And we came here and Mum saw this," Zoe said, waving at the picture. "Before you, I would never have even thought that that was me, but since I knew what I knew, I realised that one day I would meet Reinette and she would paint my picture. I didn't know the how or the why around it but I knew I'd meet her."

Certain facts and behaviours clicked into place; suddenly, the Doctor understood.

"The moment you found out what the ship was called," he said to her. "You started acting strangely. I couldn't figure out what it was, but it was this, wasn't it? This painting told you that something was going to happen."

"I knew I'd one day meet her," she repeated, looking up at the picture instead of at him. "At the time, I just took it as a sign that I was going to travel with you, and that I made the right decision. I did nothing about it though. I could have read about Reinette's life, but instead I ignored it, figuring that what would happen would happen."

"Why didn't you tell me?" The Doctor asked, and he didn't know how he felt that she had kept something like this from him but that was Zoe all over: sharing certain things but keeping the important stuff to herself.

"I thought about it," she admitted, tearing her eyes away from herself to look up at him. "I thought about calling Rose to ask to speak to you, but then I decided against it. I guess I didn't want you to ruin it with a scientific explanation."

"Ruin it?" He repeated, a touch offended.

"I didn't know you then," she said by way of defence. "We were still strangers to each other. And I liked having this secret, just for me; a little glimpse into my future that seemed so much more amazing than I ever thought it could be. Then, when we got to the ship, I got a little carried away with it all...I didn't take the time to speak to you." She rubbed her eyes. "I should have made the time. I should have told you what was happening. It might have made a difference."

A flare of sympathy filled him.

"It might not have," the Doctor said softly. "Time's a tricky beast, and you're doing your best with it. Don't beat yourself up too much."

"God," she said with a small laugh. "I must look really fucking pathetic if you're talking like this."

"You look a _little_ pathetic right now," he said carefully, and she barked out a laugh, slapping him lightly in the chest. He put an arm around her and held her against his chest as he looked up at the picture on the wall. "It's a nice picture. She was very talented."

"She was," Zoe agreed, feeling emotionally exhausted but light and happy as well, as though something she didn't know was broken had just been fixed.

* * *

 _Day Two Hundred and Thirty-Six_

"The oceans really are purple!" Zoe enthused, wading waist deep into the purple water of Drana, a planet he had been meaning to take her to for a long time; he laughed at her from the silver-sanded shore line, happy to let her splash about without getting wet himself. "It's purple!"

"It's because –"

"Ah!" She cut him off with a raised hand. "Nope. Don't want to hear it. Let it be magic, just this once."

He pressed his lips together. The physical effort of restraining himself from contradicting her was painful but the look of wide-eyed wonder and pure delight on her face was more than worth it.

* * *

 _Day Two Hundred and Seventy-One_

Zoe sat in Yatta's office, and her right knee bounced rapidly up and down as she sat on the familiar sofa for her weekly therapy session. For nearly a year, the Doctor had religiously brought her to Reylar so that she could talk through her grief and emotions over Reinette's death with Yatta who was patient, supportive, and insightful. Sometimes Zoe came ready to talk, other times Yatta could barely get any words out of her, and there were varying times when she was in between the two extremes.

Today, she was just eager to be gone. She wanted to be back in the TARDIS and spinning through the Time Vortex or exploring a new planet. Her feet were restless, and she wanted to go somewhere new, but the Doctor couldn't be persuaded to push her appointment back and so she found herself watching the clock for the end of her appointment: only five minutes left.

"You seem to be feeling better than you were when you returned," Yatta said, hands folded across her stomach, looking as relaxed as anyone could at eleven months pregnant. Zoe had winced when told that Reylarians had a gestational period of thirteen months because Yatta had looked ready to give birth three months ago. "Would you say that's accurate?"

"In some ways," Zoe said, pressing her hand against her knee to stop it bouncing. "The pain isn't as sharp any more but the strength of it...it still takes my breath away, but I don't feel like I'm dying. At least not all of the time."

"Just some of the time?"

"Yeah," she said, thinking of the days that she couldn't move from her bed, and the times that she would start crying whilst cooking dinner. "The Doctor said I'd grow into the pain, and I think that's what's happening. I'm making space for it inside me."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I don't know," she admitted on a soft sigh. She had only _once_ tried lying to Yatta and soon realised that there was no point as Yatta knew; besides, it wasn't helpful to lie. "When she died, all I wanted was to die with her. I just wanted to crawl into the ground next to her and let the universe take me. But now...now I can see ahead again. It's not this dark, empty space where my hopes and dreams for us were. It's this space where I see my mum and my sister, and Jack and Mickey, and the Doctor. All of us there, and we're happy and laughing...I'm thinking about the future again."

"That's good," Yatta said, pleased with her progress. "That's really good. I would just advise you not to make concrete plans. Dream and think and imagine, but don't leap into anything. Not just yet."

"I'm not planning on changing my life like that." She snapped her fingers with a small smile. "But the future's not so scary any more."

"You've come a long way from a year ago," Yatta told her. "And there's still ways to go yet, but I think that we can start seeing each other once every two weeks now. As long as the Doctor keeps you linear with me."

"This is something he takes seriously," Zoe said. "He'll get me here when I'm supposed to be here."

"Good." Yatta smiled at her. "Now go on. You've been wanting to leave since you got here."

"Not because I don't enjoy your company," she said, rising to her feet with a grin. "I'll see you in two weeks. Thanks for everything."

Yatta just smiled at her and watched as her most interesting patient left her office. Zoe's problems were universal – grief, PTSD, recovery – but her unique circumstances made her the most fascinating patient she had. She stretched her legs and patted her protruding stomach before she stood up so as to use her bathroom.

* * *

 _Day Two Hundred and Eighty-Seven_

She couldn't stop laughing. She had to lean against the wall of the building that their class had been in because she was laughing so hard that she couldn't stand up without support. She braced her hands on her thighs and roared with laughter whilst the Doctor watched her, unable to stop himself from joining in as her laughter was infectious. She raised a hand to point at him.

"That was brilliant!"

"I honestly thought it was a ceramics class," the Doctor defended himself through his laughter, her sheer joy at his mistake chasing away any potential embarrassment. "How was I to know?"

"It said _throwing pots_ on the class materials!"

"That's a ceramics term!" He protested. "You throw pots on the wheel. You create them that way."

She whooped with laughter and wiped at her eyes, but it did nothing to stop her mirth from spreading through her and out into the world.

"That was the best thing ever," Zoe said, shaking with laughter. "The look on your face when he started actually throwing pots against the wall! I wish I'd had a camera."

"I did wonder why there were already pots there."

She just roared with laughter.

* * *

 _Day Three Hundred and Two_

"You are very beautiful," Rasputin said to Zoe, backing her into a corner, and she silently cursed herself for getting trapped alone with him. "Why do you move away from me? Do you know how many women in Russia would lie with me?"

"Then I suggest finding one of them," Zoe replied, slapping his hand sharply away from her body when he reached for her. An ugly scowl raced across his face. "Because not only am I thoroughly uninterested, I'm also married. So back off!"

He leered. "Your husband need never know."

"Mate, I am fucking warning you," she threatened, anger building up in her. She looked around for something to use as a weapon but the balcony was sadly weaponless. "One more step and I'll push you over the edge. History be damned."

"You speak such nonsense," Rasputin said, charmed, closing the distance between them. She curled her right hand into a fist, ready to smash it into his nose. "I like it."

He lunged for her.

She raised her fist.

A dull thud made him blink before he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

She stared, surprise on her face, at the Doctor who was standing just behind Rasputin with a book in his hand.

"Did you hit him?" She asked incredulously, staring at the Doctor with wide eyes, fist half aloft. "With a _book_?"

"Most dangerous weapon in the known universe," he said, tossing the hardback over the balcony to her horrified exclamation. "I feel we should make a discreet but quick exit. He's still very much respected right now."

"Let's just shove him into a closet and go back to dancing," she said, shaking the dislodged curls from her eyes. "No one checks the closets, ever."

"I might also have accidentally insulted the Tsar's daughter," he admitted. She straightened from the act of bending down to drag Rasputin to the nearest closet. She took his hand instead with a deep roll of her eyes. "I didn't mean to!"

"Oh, you never do."

"You sound just like your mother right now."

"How dare you!"

* * *

 _Day Three Hundred and Twenty-Two_

Zoe screamed with delight as she plummeted through the air, arms and legs spread wide, the pressure of the air making her cheeks flap. When the Doctor had asked her what she wanted to do that morning, she blithely tossed out a parachute jump fully expecting him to lecture her on the dangers of it. However, she had underestimated his desire to please her and so he took them to California in the 21st century, a depressingly arid place because of a fifty-year drought that turned the grasslands to dust. It was, according to his extensive knowledge, the best place on Earth to do a parachute jump; by that, she knew that he meant it was also the safest.

If she wanted to fling herself out of an aeroplane, he would support her, but he would also make sure she was the safest it could possibly be whilst falling through the air.

The wind streamed around her. She felt free and strong as she plummeted towards the earth with a smile on her face.

* * *

 _Day Three Hundred and Sixty-One_

Zoe lay stretched out on her bed, an arm tucked beneath her head, as she held the envelope with her name on it up in front of her. It was _exactly_ one year to the day since Reinette had died, and the anniversary of her death left Zoe feeling odd and out of sorts. The Doctor kept passing by her room, quiet and annoying in his concern for her. He hadn't expected her to get out of bed but she had been in the kitchen as normal eating her croissant and drinking her coffee, showered and dressed. He proceeded to walk on eggshells around her for fear of doing something that might send her spiralling into an abyss of grief.

Zoe wasn't sure how she felt. She missed Reinette with a fierceness that she hoped never faded for fear of what it would mean if it did, and she kept replaying that awful day in her head: the rattling breath, the scent of death in the air, the pool of sticky sweat under her arms, and the desperate hope that the universe might just be kind to them. She went through the things that she bought with her from the palace: a small metal bag with only three items, and she laid them out on her bed whilst keeping Reinette's hair between her fingers.

The letter called out to her, demanding to be read, but still she hesitated.

Her eyes traced the elegant curve of her name on the front of the envelope. She wished that her name was Jennifer or Catherine; anything with more letters than Zoe so that she could see more of her wife's handwriting. She wasn't sure she was ready to read it. She had discussed the letter with Yatta at her last appointment, but she hadn't come to any firm decision about what to do. She thought that seeing it might help her decide but she was more torn than ever.

She rolled her eyes to her door, an annoyed expression on her face.

"If you're just going to loiter, you may as well come in."

The door cracked open, and the Doctor peered around it, looking a little sheepish at being caught out. "Sorry. Hi. I just wanted to check in on you."

"I'm fine," Zoe said, looking back at her letter. "Just thinking."

"That's good," he nodded, his body sliding into her room. "Thinking is good. Anything I can help with?"

She shook her head and put the letter down, slightly out of sight so that he knew not to talk about it. His eyes followed its process before snapping back to her.

"I'm trying to remember this poem," she said with a small frown. "I know the first bit but I can't remember how it ends."

"What's the first bit?" He asked, sitting by her feet and looking at her.

"'The night has a thousand eyes, and the day but one.'"

"'Yet the light of the bright world dies with the dying sun,'" the Doctor continued. "'The mind has a thousand eyes, and the heart but one; yet the light of a whole life dies when love is done.'"

She closed her eyes as the words washed over her. "That's the one."

"Francis William Bourdillion," he said. "It's a nice poem."

"I like it," she said quietly. "It feels accurate."

He rested his hand on her bare foot, curling his fingers around her sole. "Do you want to do anything today? Or just a quiet day at home?"

"I think..." she began, sighing heavily before she opened her eyes and looked at him. "I think I want to see my sister again."

The Doctor straightened, surprised and a little hopeful as he missed Rose and Jack. "Really?"

"Yeah," Zoe nodded. "I want to see Rose and Jack. And then I want to go home and see Mum and Mickey as well. I've left it a long time. Maybe too long, but I think I'm ready now."

"Okay," he said, squeezing her foot. "Okay. I'll set the coordinates for Nibiru."

"Give me an hour," she requested. "I want to shower and change first. I'll meet you in the console room?"

"Of course," the Doctor said, releasing her foot. "And Zoe?" She looked to him. "It's going to be okay."

Zoe reached out and touched his cheek, her palm spreading out across his lovely face, and she smiled at him. She leaned across and pressed her lips to his forehead, lingering there.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For being my friend."

"Always."


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter Forty-One**

 _Nibiru_

The sun was not yet bright enough that it would cause the throbbing in her head to intensify but Rose wasn't taking any risks. She lay flat on her back in the mildewed grass, the dampness seeping into her outfit that desperately needed a good clean in the incinerator. Her limbs were spread out around her, and her eyes were closed. Every part of her throbbed and ached from her night of dancing, and she felt that if she moved she was going to fly apart at the seams. Despite the pill Jack had given her, which dissolved on her tacky tongue and helped chase away the worst of her hangover symptoms, she didn't feel great. Her mouth was dry, and her fingers twitched with a wish for more water.

When Jack had come looking for her in order to round her up as the sun started to creep over the horizon, marks on his neck and shoulders and his glitter make-up smeared, he was carrying a pack of water that they shared on their walk out of the city. There was another one near her, but it was too much of an effort to stretch for it.

Her legs hurt. The muscles in her thighs and calves burned, and her feet felt as though they were on fire. Her shoes were discarded somewhere near her. She had peeled them off as soon as she could to let her feet cool down and throb in the fresh morning air. She wanted to soak them in the bath. Actually, _she_ wanted to soak in the bath. It was fortunate that her feet were attached to her so that she could kill two birds with one stone. The thought of her bath, her bed, and the possibility of persuading her sister to curl up with her made her impatient for the Doctor to arrive. She hoped he wouldn't be late. She really needed to pee and had so far refused Jack's suggestion that she just squat down.

When her dry mouth got too much, she rose up on her elbows and found the water bottle. It had an unusually complicated drinking mechanism, but she managed to pry it open with her teeth and chase the dryness from her mouth. She squinted at Jack who was standing up much to her bewilderment. He was messing with his wrist strap, tapping the screen on his Vortex manipulator, and the sun caught him in its soft rays, casting a gentle glow around him. She hated him in that moment: no one should look as put together and as healthy as he did after the night they had had.

"How're you standin'?" Rose groaned as she lay back down again, flinging an arm over her eyes.

Getting a drink had caused her head to pound afresh, and she felt the urge to vomit start to rise in her.

"Practice," Jack said, and she groaned again.

"I think 'm goin' to die," she whimpered, and she was grateful for the mildew as it helped to offset the sticky alcohol sweat that her body was excreting. She felt hot and clammy, and her teeth felt as though fur was growing there.

"That's the vodka talking," he said, sitting down next to her, folding his legs Indian style, and she immediately curled into his thigh to use him as a pillow. "I bet the Doctor has something on the TARDIS to help you."

"He pro'ly won't give it to me," she muttered. "Let me suffer."

Jack stifled a laugh. He tilted his head back to enjoy the early morning sun. He felt happy and at peace. "Probably."

"I hope he's not late," she said, tucking herself in tighter, arms wrapped around her torso. "I want to sleep...and pee."

"I could use something to eat myself," he said. "Think Zoe will make a fried breakfast for us?"

The mention of food, and particularly Zoe's fried breakfast, was too much for Rose. She pushed away from him and scrambled to a semi-respectable distance before a wave of multi-coloured vomit rushed up her throat and expelled from her mouth. Her fingers dug into the wet grass and the band of pain around her head tightened at the pressure her body was putting on it. She heaved twice more before she let out a low moan, saliva and bile dripping from her mouth and nose. She cleared her throat and spat it onto the ground before cleaning her nose as best she could. When she felt as decent as she was going to get, she crawled back over to a sheepish looking Jack.

"Don't talk about food," she requested miserably.

"Sorry," he apologised, and he held his arm up to let her get settled against him again. He brushed her hair from her sweaty face. She rested against him, and the tight pounding in her head started to soften. "Did you have a good night though?"

"Course I did," Rose said, and she was able to smile against his thigh. "It was amazin'."

It had been an incredible night.

She had never known anything like it. The dance festival was seared into her memory with the bright lights of the fireworks that exploded over head all night long and the pulsing beat of the music that didn't stop and seemed to get faster and faster as the night progressed. The hot press of people and the warm heat of mouths against hers. She couldn't remember how many people she kissed last night but she didn't care. It had been part of the moment and it felt right at the time. It wasn't like in London where if she spent the night kissing people, she would have a reputation the next day. It was Nibiru where kissing was as natural as breathing. The festival goers viewed it as an extension of dancing and being open with oneself. Admittedly, she didn't go as far as Jack but no one ever did. She was quietly amazed he was able to walk and sit comfortably given what she knew he had got up to.

Jack's fingers in her hair were soothing, and they helped to lull her towards sleep that was beckoning her like a siren in the ocean. Her eyes felt heavy, and she could feel herself dipping towards pleasant unconsciousness when a light breeze flickered across her face. Her nose wrinkled, and she pressed herself into Jack's thigh to avoid it but it grew stronger and stronger. Her eye cracked open as the wheezing, groaning sound of the TARDIS filled the air.

Remarkably, the Doctor was on time.

Jack helped her sit up, and they watched as the TARDIS materialised in front of them. Rose felt breathless. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to seeing it appear like that, and she marvelled at how different her life had become over the last few months. A year ago she couldn't even have imagined such a life but there she was sitting on an alien planet with a man from the future waiting for their alien friend to pick them up. Sometimes her life felt like a dream: a wonderful, amazing dream.

There was a beat when the TARDIS settled into the world around it before the door opened and the Doctor's familiar head poked out from within. His eyes flicked over them and rested on Rose, a smile tugging at his mouth when he saw how awful she looked. Her eyes narrowed at him in warning, daring him to say something, so he smothered his amusement as the rest of his body came around the door and stepped outside.

"Hello," he smiled at them, pleased to see them again. He wanted to wrap them up in his arms and breathe them in, but he resisted the urge for fearing of making of them worry. "Good night?"

"I need sleep," Rose complained, moving towards him to slip against his chest and rest her head on his shoulder. He put an arm around her, and his nose wrinkled. "An' somethin' for my head."

"And a shower," he said. "You smell like you've been dancing in a rubbish tip."

"God, charm personified, you are." She rolled her eyes and pushed away from him. "Where's Zoe?"

He shifted. "In the kitchen. Thought you two might like something to eat."

"I'm in love with that girl," Jack said, happiness seeping through him. "I'm starving. Is she doing a fry up?"

"I think so."

Jack pumped his fist happily. "Did you two have a good time at the literary festival?"

"The what?"

"The literary festival you went to."

The Doctor blinked, remembering the festival in Poland before everything had gone just a little bit sideways for a very long time.

"Oh, yeah, it was fun," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. "Zoe got lots of books, of course."

"Of course," Jack said, amused, and the Doctor stepped out of the way to let them into the TARDIS.

He trailed behind them, nervous about what was to come. He thought about stopping both Rose and Jack before they entered the kitchen and saw Zoe but it would take too long to explain everything, and they would need to see her anyway. He kept pace with them and followed the smell of Zoe's cooked breakfast. She had volunteered to cook in order to buy herself some more time. She had been twitching with nerves since they set off, and her agitation made him nervous as well so he flew the TARDIS whilst she cooked. He checked, double checked, and then triple checked that he got the time right before he opened the door to the TARDIS and saw them there.

He stepped into the kitchen doorway just as Zoe turned around. Jack went completely still, a sharp inhalation of breath, immediately cataloguing the changes from the Zoe he had seen only the night before.

It took Rose a little longer.

"I could kiss you," Rose said as she went straight for the plate of food on the table; vomiting earlier had made her feel hungry again, and she plucked a sausage from the plate with her fingers and bit into it. She made a sound of pleasure and she raised her eyes to her sister. Her smile froze a little as she chewed. "Your hair's long again."

"Yeah," Zoe replied, voice a low whisper. Her fingers touched her curls, and she cleared her throat. "It is. Yeah."

"You look different," Rose noted, eyes sweeping over her with a small frown as the sausage burned her fingertips. She set it down and wiped the grease off on her dress. Zoe was taller, older, slimmer, and had a sharpness to her that hadn't been there before. "Like...I dunno. You look different."

"She's older, Rose," Jack said, voice unusually serious. "By a couple of years at least, I reckon."

"Hey, Jack," Zoe said softly, and his expression softened.

"Hey, Zo," he replied, the skin around his eyes tight. "You okay?"

"Getting there."

"I don't understand," Rose said, looking between Zoe and Jack, her eyes taking in the Doctor as well. "You're older now? How? Why?"

"Something happened," Zoe started, looking to the Doctor for support. He shifted and moved towards her, standing at her back so that she could soak up his strength to buoy up her own courage. "There was a – a situation, and I spent some time trapped in the past. Er – the 18th century, to be more precise."

Rose blinked slowly, and she looked to Jack as though he had the answer but he just shrugged.

"How long?" She asked, a cold sense of panic rising up within her. "How long have you been gone?"

Zoe opened her mouth and exhaled slowly before answering. "Seven years. I've been gone for about seven years."

* * *

The Doctor and Jack watched silently as Zoe followed her sister out of the room, calling her name with resignation, shoulders slumped under the weight of an imperfect reunion. Jack reached up and rubbed the bridge of his nose, tension building there: complicated lineal events always gave him a headache. The story Zoe had told them about the spaceship and the time windows and then everything in between then and when the Doctor came to get her was everything that he had been trained to avoid. The amount of temporal rules that had been broken were staggering, and he couldn't think about the potential ramifications of Zoe existing for years in a time she shouldn't have been without his eye twitching. He loved travelling with the Doctor and the girls but sometimes he wished there were just a few more rules in place to stop such things from happening.

He honestly expected better from a Time Lord.

"Here," the Doctor said, and Jack opened his eyes to find him extending a glass of whiskey towards him, the bottle set down on the table between them. "Hair of the dog."

"Cheers," Jack said, testing the word out in his mouth. It was something Zoe and Rose tended to say, and he knew it was colloquial 21st century London slang but it felt odd in his mouth nonetheless. "This is a bit of a shitstorm."

The Doctor snorted. "You're telling me."

"How did she even get through that time window in the first place?" He asked, letting the whiskey burn its way down his throat and settle in his stomach. Jack wasn't sure why it was called hair of the dog but it was working.

"I helped her," the Doctor said. Jack stared at him, surprised and with a small amount of censure in his expression. "Don't look at me like that. Reinette's life needed saving and one of us had to do it. She didn't know how to fly the TARDIS, and I didn't realise there was a Time Lock on Reinette's life. Obviously, if I had, I wouldn't have helped her through."

Jack sighed and leaned his head back. He rested his whiskey against his thigh. "If something like this happened at the Time Agency, the agent would be removed from the rota permanently. Given a desk job or something."

"You see Zoe being sidelined like that?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Jack laughed. "Course not. I'm just saying I don't know how to help her right now. My frame of reference doesn't fit this."

"She's doing okay," the Doctor said, swirling his whiskey in his glass. He didn't like the taste but he did like the burn of it. "Better than she was a year ago, at least. She's still seeing her therapist twice a month and that seems to be helping her."

Jack closed his eyes and pulled Zoe's face to the forefront of his mind. The Zoe she had been and the Zoe she was now overlaid themselves before settling into the woman who had just left the room. Her face when she was retelling her and Reinette's story was one of heartbreak and grief that made Jack's own heart hurt. It was a look that she shouldn't have on her face at only twenty-five but have it she did and he felt sorry for her: between this and her experiences on Tolandra, she seemed to be getting the worst of their travel.

He had no idea who Reinette was in terms of history, though he was sure to remedy that when he had the time, but she was someone who was loved deeply and completely by Zoe. He wondered at the type of person that Zoe would love. She didn't seem the type to settle for idiots, and she seemed as though she definitely needed intellectual compatibility as well as sexual. He supposed a woman bright enough to position herself as Chief Mistress would be smart enough to hold her own with Zoe.

"I was married once," Jack said into the silence. The Doctor stared at him, surprised. He opened his eyes and grinned when he saw the expression on his friend's face. "We got stuck in a repeating time loop for five years. I'm not sure we really liked each other towards the end, or at the beginning really, but it seemed the thing to do at the time. I haven't spoken to him in years."

"I had no idea."

"Well, no offence, Doc, but if a person isn't Zoe then you're not exactly the most chatty of guys."

"Excuse me?"

"You talk and you talk but you never actually say anything," Jack pointed out. "You have this way about you of just drawing people into your orbit and making them feel special but you don't really share anything of yourself in return."

The Doctor frowned. "I talk about things."

"Yeah, with Zoe," he replied, his good nature taking the potential edge off of his words and making it sound as though he was simply discussing the weather. "And that's not a bad thing. You two are friends, but I'm just saying that if we're not Zoe then your interest sort of plummets."

The Doctor stared at him, a little offended but more thoughtful than anything else. He didn't think he did that but his relationship with Zoe did loom prominently over all other friendships he had, and he realised that Jack was right. Since coming aboard nearly two months ago from the captain's perspective, he and Jack had spent time together fixing the TARDIS and scrabbling through the inner workings where they would chat about music or sports or the intricacies of the 21st century but they hadn't actually sat down and talked properly. Not that Jack hadn't tried. He now recognised the other man had made attempts at getting to know him better but the Doctor had ignored the effort and he felt shamed by it.

He realised he had done the same to Rose as well.

Early on, shortly after meeting her, he had opened up a little when she was still shaken from the ill-conceived trip to Platform One. He had told her a little about Gallifrey, the wound still raw and painful; he had been desperately reaching out for something – _someone –_ to hold onto so he could stay above water and Rose was there and so wonderfully human. Then he met Zoe not a day later, and it was just an instant connection of _you're my person_ with her that made everything else fall out of focus for him.

The sheer relief of having someone in his life with whom he just connected with had blinded him a little towards getting to know Rose and Jack on a deeper level.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor apologised, and there was a brief flash of surprise on Jack's face, not having expected anything let alone an apology. "You're right. It's just...with Zoe I feel comfortable talking about things with her that are difficult to discuss. I guess I didn't realise that I was maybe keeping you and Rose at arms length though."

"I'm not asking to learn your more most intimate secrets, Doctor," he said, and a quirk of his eyebrow made him look absolutely filthy. "Although –"

"Stop it."

Jack laughed. "Look, I'm sorry, I don't know why I chose now of all times to bring it up."

"It's all right," the Doctor said, casting his eyes towards the kitchen door. "I reckon the girls are going to be a while anyway."

"Think Rose'll get over it?"

"She will." He nodded in his certainty. "She's only upset because she's missed out on her sister's life. I don't think there's anything that'll pull those two apart." He thumbs his glass and makes an effort. "You have siblings, captain?"

"A brother," Jack answered carefully as a bite of pain sank into him. "He's gone now. You?"

"Same," the Doctor said. "He died with Gallifrey."

"What was it like?" Jack asked. "Gallifrey?"

The Doctor hesitated but Jack was his friend and talking about his home made it feel alive again, if only for a brief moment. He poured Jack another whiskey, and they settled back in their chairs as the Doctor began to speak of Gallifrey's burnt orange skies and its silver leaved trees.

* * *

Rose entered her bedroom and pressed her hands to her face. She was shaking, and her cheeks were wet with tears that she didn't know she had shed. She felt sick, and there was a thin coating of bile in her mouth and throat that she was certain hadn't come from her night of drinking. She pushed her way through the mess of her bedroom and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet. She gathered her hair behind her and vomited what was left in her stomach. She hadn't eaten the breakfast made for her, letting it congeal and go cold whilst Zoe told her and Jack what had happened to her. Her body heaved again and only stringy saliva came up and hung wetly from her mouth and nose. She fumbled for the flush and grabbed some toilet paper on the way back. She mopped up her face and slumped back against the edge of her bathtub, exhausted and confused.

The door to the bathroom opened, and she looked up. Zoe stood framed in the doorway, her hair as thick and curly as it used to be before Tolandra, with a carefully controlled look of concern on her face: not so much that it annoyed Rose but just enough that it was there. They stared at each other for a long moment before Zoe sighed and disappeared. Rose stared after her. She wanted to call out for her but she didn't know what she would say. She didn't have long to think on the matter though as her sister returned with an empty drinking glass in her hand which she filled it up under the tap before holding it down to her.

"You might want to rinse," Zoe suggested before turning away to look at her reflection, hands gripping the edge of the sink.

Rose stared at the wedding ring that gleamed on Zoe's finger, and she took a mouthful of water to swirl it around her mouth before gargling. She spat it into the toilet and sat back against the bath, sipping at the water whilst looking at Zoe's legs. Her mind kept drifting back to that morning she walked into the flat after returning from Cardiff having met Charles Dickens. There was a stretch of a year where her mother and sister existed without her, and she didn't really think about it all that much. Sometimes Zoe would reference something that happened during that time or Mickey would make a small comment but she didn't feel like there was any missing time for her because barely anything had changed in that period for her and her family.

Looking at Zoe though, the changes were obvious and not just physically so – the way she held herself was different.

Before, Zoe seemed to curl in on herself and make herself smaller, self-conscious about her height as both Rose and Jackie were shorter than she was. Now, she stood tall and easily, as though finally comfortable in her own skin; and there was a quiet confidence that radiated off of her that was missing before. It was a good look for her, but it was also obvious that she was no longer seventeen years old. She thought about what Zoe had to go through to reach that point and her heart hurt.

" _I married her."_

That was all Zoe had to say about Reinette. Simply that they married and then a year later, Reinette died from tuberculosis. She didn't expound upon her relationship with Reinette, and it was difficult to tell what she was thinking but underneath the surface of a Zoe who had been weathered by life was Rose's sister. She had never really been as emotionally open as Rose and Jackie, but there were little tells that she had that gave her away: a slight tightening of her fingers, a shift of her eyes to the left, her fingertips rubbing against her neck. All those little things were still there, and they told Rose what Zoe's words couldn't.

She had fallen in love.

And Rose wasn't there for it.

"D'you ever think if it's worth it?" Rose asked, breaking the silence that yawned between them.

Zoe, braced on the sink, looked over her shoulder at her. "If what's worth it?"

Rose realised that her voice was different as well: cultured and smooth with the jagged London edges shaved off.

"This," she said, gesturing around her bathroom. "Travellin' with the Doctor."

Zoe stared at her before she pushed herself away and turned around, leaning back against the sink and folding her arms across her chest. "Never thought I'd hear you ask that."

"It's just..." Rose began before sighing heavily. "It's been seven years. I've missed seven years of your life, an' the important bits too. You got married an' I wasn't there. I never met Ren – Rene –"

"Reinette."

"Reinette," Rose said, trying her best to get the pronunciation correct. "I never met her. I mean, I didn't even know you were gay. How long has that been happenin'?"

Zoe tipped back her head and laughed: a soft, happy sound.

"I'm not gay, Rosie," she said, eyes sparkling. "I like both: men and women."

"Oh," Rose said. "Like Jack."

"Significantly less flexible than Jack, but yeah," she agreed with a smile. She looked down at her feet. "Is that a problem?"

"Don't be daft." Rose rolled her eyes. "Course it ain't. Suppose it makes sense though. You were always eyein' Shareen up. I thought you just liked her hair."

"Fuck off." Zoe grinned. "I did not fancy Shareen."

"No? Who then?"

Zoe aimed a kick at her sister, and Rose pulled her foot away with a laugh. The tension between the eased and spread like water across the ground. Zoe moved away from the sink and sat down next to Rose on the floor, crossing her legs at her ankles, and Rose took her hand in hers. She touched her sister's wedding ring. Zoe watched her as she turned it around her finger.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," Rose said softly, tears burning against the back of her eyes. "I'm sorry I'll never know her."

"You would've loved her," Zoe whispered, closing her eyes. "She was...God, Rose, she was amazing."

"I bet she was," she said gently, pressing her forehead to Zoe's shoulder and resting her head there. "I'm sorry she died."

Zoe rested her head atop her sister's. "Thanks."

"So do you?" Rose prompted after a moment's silence. "Think it's all worth it?"

"I wouldn't change one second of the last few years," she said honestly, having thought about it herself over the years. "It was hard and terrifying and I lost a lot, but the things I gained were worth all of the suffering I went through. So yeah, I think travelling with the Doctor is worth it. Absolutely. I can't imagine my life without having loved Reinette and being loved by her. I can't ever regret that."

Rose thumbed the ring around Zoe's finger as she absorbed that.

"What was your wedding like?" She asked quietly. "Did you wear a white dress?"

"Kind of," Zoe said. "It was cream, and I had to wear stays, which are corset like things and completely horrible. I could barely breathe properly but it was nice. We got married in front of a fountain. There were only four of us because, you know, gay marriage."

Rose snorted.

"But the king married us, and the queen helped me get ready," she continued, slowly getting lost in her memories that still stung when she thought on them but not as fiercely as it had hurt months ago. "It was nice but I wished that you and mum were there. It felt strange getting married without you."

Rose suddenly groaned. Zoe looked to her, concerned.

"Mum," she explained. "She's goin' to lose her mind. It was bad enough that I went missin' for a year. What d'you think she's goin' to do when she hears about this?"

"Probably kill the Doctor," Zoe sighed with a frown. "I'm not looking forward to it."

"Me neither," Rose said. "She's probably goin' to try an' lock us away for good."

"And when has that ever worked with you?" She asked with a smile. "I remember you sneaking out to meet Jimmy bloody Stone despite Mum placing locks on the window."

"Eugh, don't remind me," Rose grimaced, fingers nervously rubbing her wrist as though soothing a pain. She shifted against the hard tiled floor. "Jesus, my arse is hurtin'."

Zoe laughed before rising nimbly to her feet and pulling her sister up with her. Rose hopped on one foot as she shook her leg out.

"Ow. Ow, ow, ow. Pins an' needles."

"Walk it off," Zoe advised, and her nose wrinkled slightly. "And have a shower. I love you but you stink."

Rose sniffed her dress and wrinkled her nose. "Yeah. I'm pretty foul."

"We're going home tomorrow," Zoe told her from the doorway. "Just for a while, so I can see Mum. You might want to sleep first. Feel free to take all the time you need. I don't think either me or the Doctor are in any hurry."

Rose nodded, and she watched as Zoe made to leave the bathroom. "Hey, Zo?" She turned back to look at her, and Rose gave her a small, soft smile. "I love you."

Tears appeared in Zoe's eyes and she swallowed, hard. "I love you too."

* * *

Rose wasn't sure how long she slept for but when she woke up her hangover was gone and she felt well-rested, even if her eyes felt heavy with the want of more sleep. She lay there for a long moment as her brain shifted and her memories reorganised and she remembered Zoe. A feeling of loss swept over her, and she pulled her covers tighter about her body whilst she pulled her knees up to her chest. She felt wide awake and despondent, and she wanted to put eyes on her sister to reassure herself that she was fine. She crawled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom where she used the toilet and had a quick shower before dressing comfortably, forgoing her make-up.

She set out in search of her sister, stopping in the kitchen to grab a muffin that was on the sideboard. She bit into it: _banana,_ of course. Zoe wasn't in her bedroom and her bed didn't look as though it had been slept in, nor was she in the library. The TARDIS didn't seem inclined to help her, so she settled for just calling Zoe's name as she wandered through the corridors, finishing off her muffin and brushing the crumbs from the front of her top. The Doctor's head appeared from behind a door.

"Hello," he greeted. "Looking for Zoe?"

Rose paused in the middle of the corridor. "You know where she is?"

"She and Jack are having a swimming competition in the pool," he said. "She found a new swimming pool a few months back. Want me to show you the way?"

"That's all right." She shook her head. She didn't enjoy swimming all that much herself, and the tension in her chest was easing now that she wasn't alone. "What are you doin'?"

"Just checking the stock in medical bay," he said, and she followed him into the room. "I sometimes forget to keep track of what I have and what I need to get. Not much use in an emergency."

"At least we don't get many of those," She said, sitting on the bed and pulling her legs up to her chest. She hugged them to her and rested her chin on her knees. "Doctor?"

He rattled around the cupboards, making notes of what he needed on a piece of paper in front of him, a swirling language spilling from the nib of his biro. "Hmm?"

"How –?" She began before her voice faltered. She cleared her throat. "How could you let it happen?"

The Doctor paused, and his shoulders stiffened before slumping. He sighed heavily and turned to face her. He looked old and tired.

"You know what Zoe's like," he said. "She's stubborn, and once she's set on her course, she can't be altered from it."

"But she listens to you!" Rose protested. He raised his eyebrows. "I mean, sometimes she listens to you. You should've stopped her."

The Doctor folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against the cabinets. "I couldn't have stopped her."

"You could've tried."

"You think I didn't?" He asked a little sharply only to feel guilty when the muscles in her face flinched at his tone. "It was a situation where we were up against a clock. Reinette was going to have her head chopped off by clockwork androids if we didn't do something, and she couldn't die. If she'd died then, killed by androids from the future, the damage to the timelines would have been catastrophically bad. We went through our options but, ultimately, the best choice was for Zoe to go through the time window."

Rose tugged on the sleeve on her top, pulling it down over her knuckles. "The best choice was to have her stranded for years?"

The Doctor rubbed his face, exhausted but unable to sleep.

"Neither of us knew that," he said. "We knew there was a small possibility of it happening, but it should have been easy to go and get her. We didn't suspect there would be anything preventing that from happening. Not until it was too late."

Rose stared at him over the tops over her knees.

"I wouldn't put her in danger knowingly, Rose," he said and her expression softened just around the edges. "She's my friend."

"I know," she sighed, and she loosed her hold on her knees, letting them fall down so that her legs dangled over the edge, her feet not even close to touching the floor. "I just – I've missed so much time with her."

"Yeah," he said quietly. "Me too."

Rose breathed in deeply, and her fingers curled around the edge of the bed.

"What was she liked?" Rose asked. "Reinette?"

"I didn't know her," the Doctor said, eyes lingering on Rose to make sure that she was okay. She would be, eventually, once she got over the shock of it all. "I only met her for the briefest of moments. She was very beautiful and not easily frightened. Zoe says she had a great adaptability: she was able to take a lot of things in her stride that a lot of other people might not have been able to do."

"Did she –?" She started before struggling to find the right words. "Did she love Zoe?"

The Doctor looked at her kindly. "Everything I've heard about her tells me that she loved Zoe a great deal."

A tear slid down Rose's cheek. She brushed it away, embarrassed. "I dunno why I'm cryin'. I never met her."

"You're crying because you've got a big heart," he said, moving to sit next to her. He put his arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest. "And I think Reinette is someone worth crying over."

"I wish I'd known her," Rose admitted quietly, and he gave her shoulders a squeeze, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "Doesn't feel right not knowin' Zoe's – er –"

"Wife."

"God, that sounds so weird!"

"You'll get used to it," he said with a small smile. "And Zoe's still Zoe. Just a little bit older now."

Rose tilted her face up to look up at him. He peered down at her. She looked young and pale without her normal face of make up but he liked the brushing of pale freckles she had across her nose and cheeks. "You know Mum's goin' to absolutely murder you, right?"

The Doctor grimaced and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Yeah, I know. I'm just hoping she'll exhaust herself before she does too much damage."

She snorted. "Don't count on it."

* * *

 _Powell Estate, London_

"Ta again, Jacks."

"My pleasure, love," Jackie said, holding onto the edge of the door. "An' don't forget to tell that bloke of yours where to stuff it if he goes sniffin' round Cynthia again."

"Will do," Jana promised, hands touching her newly cut hair. "See you soon, babe."

Jackie shut the front door behind her and stepped into her bedroom to put the twenty quid into the envelope of money that she kept out of the bank so her benefits didn't get slashed. It was never very much money she earned from the odd client or two that she had as a hairdresser but it was just enough that she didn't feel the pinch every month. It was easier now that the girls weren't living at home, and she was saving money for the first time in a long time but, her eyes glanced at the photograph of her two daughters taken the Christmas before Rose went missing, she would much rather have them home with her than out traipsing around the galaxy with that idiot they called a friend.

She crouched down and picked up the towel that was covered with hair trimmings, and she folded it into a ball that she took to the bin and emptied it. She looked up at the clock and saw that she was finished earlier than expected. She put on the kettle, and as it boiled she vacuumed the remnants of the hair from her carpet, the noise covering the low murmur of the TV that played in the background. She always kept the TV on now that the girls were gone as she didn't enjoy the silence their absence left behind. Silence reminded her of those long twelve months when Rose was gone and Zoe withdrew even deeper into herself, moving about the flat like a ghost. She couldn't bear the silence any longer as it brought all of those feelings back to her.

As she sipped her tea, she thought about inviting Howard over for dinner later that night but the idea felt more exhausting than it should. He was a perfectly lovely man who liked her and was simple and easy in a good-natured way but there was no real spark there. Not like with Pete and, to a certain extent Zoe's father; he was the first man she had slept with since Pete died, and the first to make her feel something again, even if he didn't stick around for longer than one night.

She simply wondered if she was getting too old to be concerned with feeling that same connection and chemistry as she had done when she was eighteen and meeting Pete for the first time. She sighed and sat down on her sofa, picking up a gossip magazine that she had already read. Howard was a decent guy: hard working and kind. She had done a lot worse than him in the past. She just couldn't shake her dissatisfaction.

She flicked a little forcefully through her magazine and was so focused on not thinking about her life that she missed the first tell-tale strains of it.

It was only when it had nearly fully materialised that she heard the sound of her daughters returning home via the terrifying contraption they called the TARDIS. She jumped to her feet and hurried outside onto the landing where she peered down onto the courtyard below. Sure enough, the TARDIS was settled in its usual parking spot and the door opened. From up high, she could make out their individual shapes: the Doctor, Rose, and Zoe, but she realised that there was someone else with them. Not Mickey as she had seen him that morning on his way to work.

Curious, she headed back inside and got some Jaffa cakes out from the cupboard before filling up the kettle again and popping it on. She didn't have to wait long as the front door opened and Rose swept inside, calling out her name.

"Mum! We're home!"

"About bloody time!" Jackie exclaimed, hurrying to wrap her in a tight hug. Rose laughed, hugging her back. "It's been three bleeding weeks."

"Oh, that's not so bad," Rose said, not looking at her. "Here, there's someone we want you to meet." She reached behind her and grabbed the most handsome man Jackie had ever seen and pulled him forwards. "This is Captain Jack Harkness. He's a new friend of ours. We picked him up in the middle of the London Blitz."

Jackie knew the words she spoke were English but it was strange to have them linked together in that order.

Jack picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "Charmed, Mrs Tyler. It's lovely to finally meet you. Rose and Zoe have told me lots about you."

"Stop it," the Doctor warned from the doorway, an arm around Zoe's back, but Jack ignored him.

"I don't mind," Jackie said, unable to tear her eyes away from him. "You're a bit of all right, you are."

"Mum," Rose groaned whilst Jack grinned widely.

"As are you." Jack winked, and Jackie felt heat climb up her face until Rose sighed and slapped their hands apart.

"We had an agreement," Rose said pointedly to Jack. "No flirtin' with my mum."

"It's not my fault your mother is gorgeous," he shrugged easily, and Jackie resisted the urge to fan herself.

"You can definitely come again," Jackie told him before finally looking to Rose who just looked amused. "You couldn't have brought this one home first an' not the Doctor?"

"I can hear you, you know?"

"Got any Jaffa cakes in?" Rose asked, ignoring her question. "Jack, you're goin' to love these."

Jackie narrowed her eyes at Rose, suspecting she was trying to avoid something. She turned to greet Zoe but found herself nose to chest with the Doctor. She looked up at him, and he looked oddly nervous about something. Her hackles immediately raised with suspicion.

"Hello, Jackie," he greeted with more politeness than she had ever heard from him before. "New haircut?"

"No."

"Oh." He blinked. "Well, you look lovely."

"Have you hit your head?" She asked him, and he tilted his head slightly to one side, putting her in mind of a curious dog. "You're bein' nice to me."

He scowled. "I'm a nice person."

She snorted. "Where's Zoe? You haven't left her on some weird alien planet, have you?"

"I'm here, Mum." Zoe said, and her hand pressed against the Doctor's arm and pushed. For a moment, he didn't move before he reluctantly stepped out of her way. Zoe stared at her mother, eyes hungry as she drank her in. She released a low exhale, her shoulders softening under it. "God. Mum. I've _missed_ you."

Jackie stared at her daughter.

It wasn't like the last time Zoe had come home, injured and in pain after what had happened to her on Tolandra. She was put together and healthy but she was changed and a feeling of dread settled in her stomach. She was aware that something was about to change but she wasn't sure what. Zoe stepped forward and wrapped her arm around her mother and held onto her tightly. Jackie lifted her own arms and hugged her back, her eyes finding the Doctor's over Zoe's shoulder and guilt hung heavily on his face.

Whatever it was he had done, she was going to kill him.


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter Forty-Two**

When she was pregnant with Rose, Jackie's mum had told her that her life was about to change. At the time, Jackie thought it was a ridiculous statement because _of course_ her life was going to change. She was going to have a baby, and she and Pete were going to get married, and they would get their own home and everything would be lovely. She hadn't realised that having a child was like cutting out a piece of her heart and sending it out into the world, unprotected and alone, constantly worrying that it would be okay and safe. Being Rose's mother was a terrifying experience but she decided to do it all over again when she found out that she was pregnant with Zoe; alone, still grieving, and with barely enough money for her and Rose, she had decided to keep the product of a drunken one night stand, and it was the best decision she ever made.

She didn't worry about Zoe as much as Rose because she was a quiet child: easy to manage, easy to entertain. Rose was a spitfire with her father's energy and his mad ideas on top of that, so even when Zoe decided to leave with the Doctor and travel through time and space Jackie didn't worry about her as much as she worried about Rose. Her youngest daughter had a good head on her shoulders, and she would make sure that Rose came home safe and called regularly.

So she listened to Zoe's story of years gone by in a strange place and a strange time in silence. She didn't interrupt. She didn't yell. She just listened in silence until Zoe stopped talking and sat there on the old, battered sofa that would need replacing once she could scrounge the money together, and Jackie looked at her. Her teenage daughter was gone, and in her place was a tall, beautiful, _strong_ woman who was looking at her with large, hesitant eyes. Her fingers played with the edges of her sleeves, and her knee knocked into Rose's when it bounced.

"Seven years?" Jackie repeated, her voice filling the room.

"Six in the past," Zoe nodded and cleared her throat. "One to – to get and feel better. I – er – I've not been doing so well. I mean, I've been better than I was but there are still times when I...it's been difficult. Readjusting to things."

Jackie swallowed hard. She leaned forwards, sitting on the coffee table, and she took Zoe's hands in hers. Her hands were warm and soft. She ran her fingers over the knuckles and pressed against the ring that sat on her finger: a new addition that was noticeable as Zoe didn't like jewellery. She found it cumbersome and uncomfortable.

"You're home now," Jackie said, voice rough with emotion. She cupped her daughter's face with one hand, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's okay. You're home."

Zoe's face rippled with emotions. Her jaw worked slightly as she fought against the tide but it was a losing battle. Her bottom lip quivered, and the line of her throat worked as she swallowed.

" _Mum,_ " she whispered, wet eyes finding hers.

Jackie pulled her in by the back of her neck, holding her tight against her as she breathed through her anger and grief and pain. She gently shushed her sounds: not quite crying but also not quite okay. Zoe pulled back with a deep breath, sniffing.

She wiped at her nose. "God, it feels like all I do is cry lately."

"It's been a big thing for you," Jackie said sympathetically, wiping the tears from beneath her eyes as though she was crying over a bad grade at school or someone calling her a horrible name. "It's perfectly normal."

Zoe gave her a wet smile, and Jackie rubbed her thumb across her cheek before she looked up and up and her face went tight with rage. The Doctor shifted uncomfortably, and Rose's eyes darted between them nervously, her fingers gripping the arm of her new, handsome friend who was silent and watching, chewing on his fifth Jaffa cake.

"Seven years," Jackie said, and her voice wasn't soft and gentle as it had been with her daughter – it was hard and flinty and laced with danger. The Doctor swallowed hard, and he pushed away from the wall where he had been standing like a sentinel at Zoe's shoulder. "It's been seven years for her?"

"Jackie..." he began cautiously but even the sound of his voice made anger pulse through her, harder and stronger than before. "I know this is –"

He didn't get to finish whatever paltry excuse was in the process of falling from his mouth. She rose to her feet and her fist shot out: a flash of fury and incomprehension. There was a loud, sickening crack and a grunt of pain. The atmosphere in the room shivered in surprise and confusion as its occupants took in what had happened and then life trickled in. The Doctor sank to the ground, back sliding down the wall, hands cupping his broken nose with blood dripping from between his fingers. Zoe recoiled in surprise and slipped off the sofa, landing on the floor with a thud whilst Rose let out a scream of surprise and Jack swore.

"Ow," the Doctor said slowly.

He looked up at Jackie and saw her standing over him. She looked like an angry, older Rose but her eyes were all Zoe. Panic started to filter into him because he recognised that look in Zoe's eyes. It was a look that told him she was so furious that she couldn't think clearly and she was about to do something she would regret later. Except, he didn't think Jackie would regret it. He pressed his boot against the ground and tried to push himself up onto his feet, back braced against the wall, but Jackie was quicker. He cried out, startled, when she fell on him, landing another blow against his face, his lip splitting, and his mouth throbbed: hot and painful.

"You son of a bitch!" Jackie yelled, trying to get her hands around his throat but his arms were blocking her way. She settled for hitting whatever part of him she could reach. "How could you? How fuckin' dare you!"

"Mum, no!" Zoe cried, scrambling to her feet as Jack and Rose leapt into action.

"Mrs Tyler, I really don't recommend this!"

"Geroff him, mum!"

"Mum, stop!" Zoe exclaimed, and she tried to grab hold of her but she was as slippery as an eel and twice as angry.

"I trusted you with her!" Jackie yelled, furious that he wasn't fighting back but merely taking the blows, his arms raised to protect his face. "With both of them!"

"Jackie, stop!" The Doctor said, voice muffled from beneath her and thick from being struck in the mouth. "It was a mistake!"

"Seven years?" She raged, and she drove her fist into his stomach which was harder than expected, making him gasp hoarsely with pain. Rose worked her way between them, slithering her body into the gap until she was pressed against the Doctor's chest, his elbows digging into his spine. She spread her arms out to shield him. "Move, Rose!"

"No," Rose said firmly, gripping the edge of the blood flecked couch, the material groaning beneath her curled fingers.

Jack and Zoe took the opportunity to seize hold of Jackie by the arms and drag her off the Doctor. She struggled in their hold, stronger than she looked, and she got in one last kick to his thigh, regretful that she wasn't wearing shoes. Jack held her firmly, his hands as gentle as they could be, as Zoe let go and stepped in front of her so that she was all her mum could see.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice as calm as she could make it. Despite what she had said to the others, she hadn't actually expected Jackie to attack the Doctor. She thought that she would yell and rage and maybe throw something at his head but she hadn't expected a physical attack and her heart was racing. "I'm fine. I'm here. Look at me. I'm okay."

"You're not okay," Jackie said, eyes filled with pain that made Zoe's stomach flop. "You're seven years older, Zoe. Look at you."

"It's still me," she said, taking her mother's hand with the bruised knuckles and pressed it to her cheek. "See? I'm still me. It's okay. Can we just – can we calm down so we can talk and no more punches are thrown? Let me explain properly, Mum. Please."

Jackie wavered. Her eyes flicked past her to the Doctor who was sitting up with Rose's help, nose at an awkward angle. Blood dripped from his nostrils and flowed over his mouth, rolling down his neck and staining his jumper. He looked a little dazed and a sense of satisfaction filled her even as hatred for the man roared like a wildfire inside of her.

"I want _him_ out of my house," she said fiercely, pointing.

Rose opened her mouth to argue, but she was quelled by a furious look from her mother and a squeeze on the knee from the Doctor.

"Yeah, okay," Zoe said, shoulders taut with tension. "Captain, could you –?"

"Already on it," Jack said easily. He stepped past Jackie, who watched him with a narrow-eyed look of suspicion, clearly judging him guilty by association regardless of how handsome and charming he was. He gripped the Doctor's hand and pulled him to his feet. The Doctor swayed a little but Jack kept him upright and steady. "We'll be in the TARDIS. Call if you need anything."

"Thank you," Zoe said gratefully, flashing him a quick smile, and Jack guided the Doctor out of the flat, Jackie's eyes following them all the way.

The three Tylers remained in silence until the door clicked shut behind the boys. The ticking of Grandad Prentice's old sideboard clock filled the room; for one brief moment, Zoe thought she was back in France with Reinette staring up at her from the bed, seven years old and scared but so very brave at the same time. Her chest ached. She raised a hand to rub at it, catching Jackie's eyes as she did so. Her mother stared at her, eyes moving rapidly over her face, before she crumbled. She sank down onto the sofa and pressed her face into her hands as small, choked cries spilt from her. Zoe and Rose exchanged pained looks before they sat on either side of their mother and each put an arm around her.

Jackie sniffed and wiped at her face. "Tell me again. Slowly this time."

"We left Rose and Jack on a planet called Nibiru." Zoe explained patiently. "There was a dance festival – and you know how much I hate things with drunken crowds –, so the Doctor took me to a literary festival instead. We extended our trip a little and ended up on a spaceship. There, there were some Time Windows where we could step through them and end up in the 18th century but at different points in time. A situation happened that needed dealing with, and I didn't know how to fly the TARDIS so I went through one of the Time Windows, but I had to break it in order to stop the clockwork androids from coming back and trying again. The Doctor then came to get me but we both messed up: neither of us realised that there was a Time Lock around the period and that means that there's no time travel allowed. So, instead of landing what he thought was a few days after I arrived, he arrived six years later once the Time Lock had ended."

Jackie stared at her, annoyance rising like a candle flickering to life. "I don't understand a bloody word you just said. Speak English."

Zoe felt a short moment of panic, wondering if she had slipped into French again, but Rose swiftly took over.

"She saved someone's life, Mum," Rose explained in simpler terms, rubbing Jackie's arm. "An' the only way to save her life was to trap herself. She couldn't let this person die."

"An' who was so bloody special that you had to do it?" She demanded furiously. Although Zoe had always been a helper, she considered, always the first one to help anyone who needed it, regardless of whether it was a good idea or not.

The amount of times she had to pull her youngest away from homeless addicts with needles still stuck in their veins was beyond count.

"It was Madam de Pompadour," Zoe said, and the name registered with Jackie like a sharp smack in the face. She looked around, a frown on her brow. "You remember the Louvre?"

"Madam de Pompadour," Jackie repeated, butchering the pronunciation. "The person who painted your portrait?"

Rose looked between them, confused. "What's this?"

"There's a painting in the Louvre of me done by Reinette," Zoe said quickly, eyes sliding from mother to sister. "I saw it when Mum and I went to France before you and the Doctor came back for me."

"Oh, right." Rose blinked. "Course."

"So you met her then?" Jackie asked, rubbing her forehead where a headache was burrowing its way down deep into her brain.

"I did more than that," she said with a soft, sad smile. "I married her."

Her fingers dropped, and she stared. "You what?"

"I got married, Mum," she said, sliding her wedding ring into view and Jackie looked down at it. "Reinette and I. We got married."

"Oh my lord," Jackie breathed, picking up her hand and staring at the ring: silence echoed loudly in her ears. "I just – what? Where – where is she then? Is she in the TARDIS?"

Rose looked away.

"She died," Zoe said, pain lacing her voice. "The Time Lock was linked to her life. I could only leave if she died. I didn't know that when I married her but it wouldn't have changed anything. Not really."

"Oh, sweetheart," Jackie said, her entire body softening. She enveloped Zoe in her arms, and Zoe clung to her, relishing her mother's embrace after so long without. "My poor baby."

Emotion welled up inside Zoe, and she couldn't help it. She choked on a sob again, and she grabbed hold of Jackie as she pressed into her embrace, trying to crawl inside of her. Rose stood from the sofa, rubbing her hands over her face, feeling emotionally drained herself. She disappeared into the kitchen to reboil the kettle and to give Zoe time to cry herself out. She searched through the cupboards and found a bottle of vodka that she took a bracing swig from, grimacing at the cheap taste before she put it back. When she went back into the living room with three cups of strong tea, Zoe had collected herself again. She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her long sleeved T-shirt, and Rose gave her a sympathetic look before setting the tea down in front of her, folding herself into the armchair opposite them.

"It's the bloody Doctor's fault," Jackie said angrily, picking up her tea whilst keeping a hand on her daughter's thigh. "He should've taken better care of you."

"I'm an adult, Mum," Zoe said, and she sounded tired. Jackie wondered if she was sleeping properly. "And he's not my keeper. Look." She took her hand within hers. "I knew that there was a risk to going through the Time Window, but I couldn't let Reinette die. Not when I could do something. And I had a good life there. I lived in a palace. I was mates with the king. I set up a school and taught poor children, which was so much fun, and I kind of like the idea of teaching, you know? Not to mention I also stopped an alien invasion. It was a good life."

She managed a true and honest smile that did much to set Jackie's mind at ease; although, she was still lost in the swirl of emotions that came with realising she had missed seven years of her daughter's life.

"It's a lot to take in," Rose said quietly, and Jackie looked to her. "I only found out about this yesterday."

"I know it's a lot," Zoe agreed, sipping her tea and some colour dripped back into her. "And I've thought so many times over the years about how to tell you when we saw each other again, but I didn't expect this. I always thought I'd be coming home with Reinette, not...not as a widow."

Jackie looked into the dark surface of her tea, thinking hard. "How did she die?"

"Tuberculosis," she said, breathing in deeply and trying not to let her mind shift on that final, _awful_ day. "It took about three months. She was diagnosed around Christmas time, and she died a little after our first anniversary." She used her thumb to twist her ring around her finger. "She really wanted to meet you. She was worried that you wouldn't like her."

Jackie scoffed with a roll of her eyes. "Nonsense. I would've loved her."

"That's what I said," she said with a smile before it softened, and she leaned forwards, taking her hand again. "I've really missed you Mum. Those first two years were so difficult. I was living in a palace with a woman who loved me but I just felt awful. All I wanted was to be back here with you and Rose. But I'm home now. The Doctor brought me home."

"Seven years too late," Jackie said pointedly. "First he brings Rose home a year late, an' now you."

"It's not his fault," Zoe repeated. "Mum, listen, it really isn't. He came for me _three days_ after Reinette died. If the Time Lock hadn't been in place, he would only have been three days late picking me up but it was and so it took longer."

She set her cup of tea down and tucked one foot under her thigh as she shifted on the sofa.

"I was a state when he picked me up," she said honestly. "Like I was in a really, really bad place when we saw each other again. I was so sick with grief, and I was so angry at everything and everyone that I was in no fit state to be brought home. He's taken care of me for the last twelve months. He's held me when I've cried; he's borne my anger when I needed somewhere safe to put it; and he's taken me to therapy sessions every week for the last fifty-two weeks without fail. He's let me ramble on when I've needed it, and he's distracted me when I needed that as well. He's a good man, Mum. I know that you're angry, and I understand why but please don't stay angry."

Sometimes, not often, Jackie wished that Zoe was more hotheaded like her sister. It was difficult to argue with her when she was calm and reasonable without sounding like a lunatic.

"I don't want that man in my house," Jackie said firmly. "Not until I say so. Is that understood?"

They looked at each other and nodded. "Yes, Mum."

"Lord knows I won't be able to stop you both swannin' off with him but I don't have to look at him," she continued. "An' you're both stayin' for the weekend. No arguments. If his lordship doesn't like it, then fuck him."

"Of course," Zoe placated, wiping the lingering wetness from her face and looking around as though she could find the answer to her question in the room. "What day is it anyway? I didn't check."

Jackie shook her head at a life that involved not being sure of the day, week, month, or year.

"Thursday."

"Shall I cook tonight then?" She asked, sitting right on the edge of the sofa and hunching over slightly, wrapping her hands around her ankles and turning her head to one side. "I've been trying new recipes out over the last year, and I've only given the Doctor food poisoning once so I think I'm okay at it. Just the three of us? No boys allowed."

The thought was a nice one, so Jackie nodded.

"Speakin' of the boys," Rose said, setting her empty cup down with a clink. "I'll tell them the change in plans. I'll also tell the Doctor to give the flat a wide berth."

Zoe met her sister's eyes and gave a small smile of thanks.

* * *

The sound of Mickey's laughter made Rose freeze in the doorway outside the kitchen. She could hear the low rumble of voices from behind the wooden door. She was unable to make out any specifics, but Mickey's laughter was recognisable after a lifetime of hearing it. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that he had seen the TARDIS and went inside but she was a little disappointed he hadn't come straight up to the flat to see her. Not that they were really dating any more. At least, they hadn't had a proper conversation about it. It seemed that every time they saw each other since the night she left with the Doctor there was always an undercurrent of tension and an awkwardness that had never been between them before.

Her fingers tucked her hair behind her ears and tugged on her T-shirt before she pushed open the door. Inside, Mickey was sitting at the table with Jack and the Doctor, a beer held loosely in one hand, still dressed in his mechanics overalls. He glanced up at her when the door opened; his laughter faded but a soft, welcoming expression took its place. She glanced away from him quickly, her chest tight with unfamiliar emotions, and her gaze settled on the Doctor. Sympathy and amusement battled for pride of place on her face but amusement won out as he had a bag of peas pressed against his nose.

"That looks painful," Rose said, and his eyes, which were turning dark with bruises, narrowed at her.

Her lips twitched.

"She broke it," Mickey said, voice was filled with delight, clearly viewing the Doctor's broken nose as payback for all the sharp and demeaning things said to him over the last few months.

The Doctor rolled his eyes to the ceiling, annoyed.

"I fixed it though," Jack reassured her, reaching out to curl an arm around the back of her legs, and all amusement dropped from Mickey's face at the familiar movement. Rose rested her arm around Jack's shoulders. "There's just a bit of pain left and some bruising."

"A bit?" The Doctor protested. His voice sounded strange: muffled and thick. "Never, in all my nine hundred odd years, have I ever been punched in the face by someone's mother. _Never."_

"I was surprised she landed the hit," Jack said pleasantly but his eyes glinted with mirth. "You saw her making the moves for it, I know you did, but you didn't move."

"I would've if I'd known she'd break my damn nose," he grumbled. Mickey choked on his laughter, gaining a very foul look from the Time Lord. "But I thought, let her get a hit in and hopefully that'll make her feel better towards me."

"Yeah," Rose said, wrinkling her nose. "That didn't work. I haven't seen her this angry in...well, ever."

"Great," he muttered. "Where's Zoe?"

"Cookin' dinner," she said, leaning into Jack whose thumb smoothed against the back of her thigh, a move that Mickey didn't miss. His eyes kept darting from Jack's touch to the conversation at hand. "Or at least she's about to start. Mum wants us to stay for the weekend but to let you know that you are not, under any circumstances, allowed back into the flat."

The Doctor breathed in deeply through his nose only to wince at the pain. He closed his eyes and told himself that he was suffering these indignities for Zoe. "Fine."

"She'll get over it," Rose told him, and he cracked an eye open to look at her. "I mean, not now, but eventually. She'll get over it. I think she just needs some time alone with Zoe. Both of them do, actually."

"Right, okay," he said, lowering the bag of peas from his nose to prod at the sore spot gently. He had known that it wouldn't be an easy reunion but he hadn't actually accounted for Jackie physically assaulting him. He supposed he should have known better though as the first time they met, she had slapped him across the face. "Reckon I can find something to do around here."

"You could show me around London," Jack suggested. "This is my first time in the 21st century after all"

"Where you from?" Mickey asked with a small frown, thumb peeling away the label from his beer bottle.

"51st century," he said, leaning back in his chair. Rose was stunned to see Mickey's eyes following the length of his body before he realised what he was doing, and his eyes snapped up. He met Rose's gaze, and his cheeks darkened. "This lot picked me up in 1941 though."

"He's a conman," the Doctor said.

"Reformed," Rose and Jack corrected in unison; they grinned at each other, delighted.

"Go on, Doctor, show him around," she urged. "Mum isn't going to let Zoe out of her sight so you three might as well have a bloke's weekend. Stop you gettin' bored an' restless an' findin' trouble."

"Trouble finds me."

"You don't exactly make it difficult," she said pointedly. He laughed slightly, placing the peas back against his face with a soft sigh.

"What exactly is a blokes weekend?" Jack asked, eyes bright with curiosity.

"Seriously?" Mickey replied. "You don't have 'em in the future?"

Jack shrugged.

"All right, so, it's basically a group of blokes headin' out an' havin' fun together," Mickey said with a shake of his head, launching into his explanation, Jack's usual charm winning him over as it won everyone else.

The Doctor looked to Rose and inclined his head to the doorway. She nodded and squeezed Jack's broad shoulders before slipping away from his side as Mickey detailed the various types of blokes weekends he had been on – stories that she had heard many times before. She stepped out of the kitchen and waited for the Doctor in the corridor. He followed her outside and shut the door behind him, holding his bag of peas down by his side. His face looked shiny from the condensation.

"You think he knows Jack's flirting with him?" The Doctor asked with a jerk of his head and Rose grinned.

"No," she scoffed. "Mickey wouldn't know flirtin' if it bit him on the nose. He's rubbish at it. He asked me out by tossin' a bag of crisps at my head an' askin' if I fancied a pint."

"And you said yes to _that_?"

She could see him properly under the harsher light of the corridor, and she winced as she looked up into his face. Jackie had been wearing her rings and there were small indents beneath his eyes and near his nose where those rings had slammed into him. She reached up and touched his face gently, moving her fingertips softly across his abused skin. The muscles around his eyes flickered minutely.

"She got you good, didn't she?"

"Was she a boxer at any point during her life?" The Doctor asked, her light touch soothing to his bruised face and ego and he leaned into it.

"No," she smiled. "But she was a single mum on the estate. She had to be tough."

"She could give Ali a run for his money," he said, and her hand dropped to her side, fingertips tingling. "How's Zoe?"

"She cried a little, but now she's okay," she said with a small shrug. "You know, Zo. She's tough."

"Yeah," he said. He looked worried, as though he wanted to go up to the flat and check on her but the throbbing in his nose kept his feet planted. "Tell her to call if she needs anything. I'm just going to try and avoid Jackie for a good long while."

"Probably for the best," she agreed. "Your poor face. You're goin' to have some bloody awful bruises. Isn't there anythin' in the sickbay?"

"You know how I said I was looking to stock it up because sometimes there are things I forget I don't have?" He asked, and she nodded. "Turns out I don't have ice packs and bruising formula."

Her mouth worked as she tried to prevent a smile. "Unfortunate."

"I heal quickly," he said dismissively. "You should go. Enjoy your weekend."

"It's going to be okay, right?" Rose asked, turning back to him at the last minute. "Zoe an' Mum am' all of this?"

The Doctor mustered a smile. "Course it is."

"Liar," she said but the word was spoken with soft fondness, and he watched her walk away, wishing he could join her.

* * *

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair filled with stilted conversation. Rose tried her best to make things seem as normal as possible, stepping into the role Zoe normally filled in the aftermath of a blistering argument between her and their mother, but it was difficult. Rose managed to get them onto what she thought was the relatively safe topic of how they had met Jack but that then went sideways when she accidentally mentioned running into Zoe's future self, which made Jackie look as though she had swallowed a lemon. Instead, they focused on the gossip of the estate, which hadn't changed that much in three weeks, but Rose asked as many questions as she could think of to fill the silence of the dinner table.

It was only when it ended that she realised it was the first meal the three of them had eaten together and alone since she had left with the Doctor.

"You may as well slip out," Zoe said quietly to her sister as they cleaned up whilst Jackie tidied the leaving room, righting what had been knocked askew when she had attacked the Doctor, and wiping the dried blood off the white arm of the sofa. "It's me she wants to keep her eye on. Go catch up with Shareen or something."

"I can't leave you here," Rose whispered back, taking the wet plate from her and wiping it down.

"I'll be fine." She rolled her eyes. "I once faced down an Alfasi crew with nothing more than a sonic screwdriver and a lot of bravado. I can handle an evening alone with our mother."

"Who the hell are the Alfasi?"

"A weird cockroach-looking species who were killing children," Zoe explained. "Long story. Point is, get out of here whilst you can."

She hesitated. "If you're sure?"

"Tell Shareen I said hi," she said before her eyes narrowed, mind tripping on their conversation the night before. "In a non-flirtatious way because I'm not interested in her."

Rose snorted. "All right, Zo."

"I'm not!"

"Of course."

"Rosie!"

"What are you two arguin' about?" Jackie asked, stepping into the kitchen with the remnants of a broken glass in a dustpan. Her two daughters glanced at each other, and Jackie was reminded of when they were younger and significantly less trouble.

"Rose thinks I fancied Shareen when I was little," Zoe explained, pink in the cheeks. "But I didn't."

"Course you didn't," she said, dumping the broken glass into the pin and putting the dustpan and brush back under the sink. "You fancied Miss French, that teachin' assistant at your primary school with the red hair."

Zoe's face slackened with surprise. "What?"

"You used to follow her around with hearts in your eyes," Jackie said. "You wanted me to braid your hair on the days that she was workin' because she said you looked cute in them once."

"Oh my god," Rose breathed, delighted, looking as though all of her Christmases had come at once. "This is brilliant."

"Wait," Zoe said blankly, still trying to catch up. "You knew I liked girls?"

"Was a little hard to miss, love," Jackie replied with a small shrug. "Figured you'd tell me when you were ready."

Rose turned away to smother her laughter, pressing her fist into her mouth as her nostrils flared with small huffs of choked amusement.

"Oh, well then.," Zoe said, blinking at her. "Er – I like both, you know?"

"I do."

"Okay then," she said, a little thrown; Rose, red in the face, tossed the tea towel down.

"I'm goin' out to see Shareen," Rose said, wiping at her eyes, voice shaky from suppressed laughter. "I'll tell her you send her love, eh?"

"No, no love!" Zoe protested, face crumpling into despair and annoyance. "Mu-um!"

Jackie laughed at the whine in her tone. "Rose, be nice to your sister; Zoe, stop whinin'."

Rose stuck her tongue out at Zoe before grabbing a coat from the back of the armchair. She waved her hand above her head in farewell as she walked out of the flat, the door shutting loudly behind her. Left alone together, the atmosphere shifted and became tense and awkward again, mirth fading. With an uncomfortable cough, Zoe turned back to the washing up and drained the sink before she scrubbed at the metal with cleaning spray and a sponge. Jackie watched her work, heart filled with sadness at the child she recognised but the woman she didn't. She was still Zoe but she was different as well, and it was hard to see her as she now was when the girl she had been kept sweeping to the front of her mind.

"Fancy watching a film?" Zoe asked eventually, tossing the sponge into the clean sink and peeling the gloves from her hands, draping them over the edge of it. "An old black and white one?"

Relieved, Jackie nodded. "You get it set up, I'll get the popcorn."

In the living room, Zoe fiddled with the DVD player, which was a recent gift from Howard and she noted how there were a few masculine touches in the living room that weren't there before: a fishing magazine on the coffee table, an ashtray by the window, a pair of men's slippers tucked just out of sight around the side of the armchair. She took in those small touches silently before bowing her head over the DVD player again, not wanting to get into her mother's relationship that night. Instead, she put on Gone with the Wind. Normally it was a film that they watched on lazy, rainy Sundays, the three of them piled together on the sofa, mouthing the words along as it was a comfort film for all three of them.

They sat together on the sofa, bodies leaning in on each other, a bowl of popcorn between them, and a blanket thrown over their laps. Zoe hadn't watched a film in years. Since returning from France, she hadn't bothered with TV or film as a form of entertainment for the simple reason she hadn't been able to sit still long enough to finish it. Even Star Trek hadn't been able to fully hold her attention, and she found her mind wandering as the film unfurled on the screen.

"When Pete died," Jackie said suddenly as Scarlett was widowed for the first time in the film, "I thought I was goin' to die. We'd been arguin' before. Sometimes, it seemed that all we did was argue but we always made up. Except for that one time. Afterwards, there were days I thought I couldn't get out of bed."

"I've had days like that," Zoe said softly, not looking at her. "Those first few days...I don't remember them. I know that I was with Louis for some of it, and I think he was talking to me but I can't remember what happened after she died. Not until the day of her burial. It's like this – this blank, empty space in my memories."

Jackie stared at her, her face creased with understanding and sympathy. "Rose's cry. That's the thing I remember. Pete died an' I just sat there in that church an' I couldn't hear anythin' but then Rose started cryin' an' that was it."

"I went through a period of not really eating," she confessed, the words tumbling out of her now that she was in the presence of her mother who understood what it was like to lose a spouse. "Did you have that?"

"It's why I stopped breastfeedin' Rose," Jackie said. "I wasn't eatin' properly, an' it made my milk dry up early."

Zoe looked away from the screen and to her mother, tears shining in her eyes. "I miss her. It's been a year but I miss her as much as I did at the beginning. I keep...I turn to tell her something and she's not there. Does –? Has it –? Does it stop hurting?"

"Not really, it just hurts different, I s'pose," she admitted, gently stroking Zoe's hair back from her face and cupping her cheeks. "It was worse when Rose was little an' she kept doin' all these things that he would've loved to see. He'd be well up for this time travel nonsense you two have gone in for."

Zoe smiled wetly at that.

"Reinette wanted to travel as well," she said, leaning into her mother's touch. "Or, rather, she wanted to stay with me and I wanted to travel, but she was just so curious about everything that she would have loved it out there in the universe. I regret not being able to give her that."

"You loved her," Jackie said, realisation softly sinking through her; Reinette suddenly became more real in her mind: solid and alive, though still abstract in the way that people never met are.

"I still do," Zoe whispered, voice cracking slightly. "And I can't imagine not loving her."

"That never goes away." She promised, sniffing. "That love? It stays in you, always."

"I hope so," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I mean, I kind of know it does. You've never stopped loving Pete, and the Doctor still loves his wife." Jackie's face flickered with a frown at that new piece of information. "But I just...I worry."

"You shouldn't," Jackie told her, shifting closer. She drew Zoe's head onto her shoulder, and her daughter wrapped around her like a limpit.

She stroked her fingers through her thick, curly hair. Three weeks ago, she had comforted her daughter in the aftermath of torture and now she was comforting her in the middle of her grief. She kissed the top of her head and breathed her in. She smelt different. Her shampoo and conditioner had changed, but beneath the smell of that she could still detect familiar scents; she closed her eyes and relished it. She remembered when Zoe was a baby and still had that new baby smell that was so addictive. She longed for those simpler days when time was linear and her daughters could be kept safe from things that would hurt them.

"I missed you so much," Zoe whispered into her mother's shoulder. "I thought of you every day, and I knew you'd laugh if you knew how I was living in that bloody palace. It was ridiculous, Mum – there were servants and everything. And I had the king teaching me how to ride a horse properly and the queen teaching me proper etiquette. I felt like such an idiot."

Jackie rested her cheek on the top of her head. "But you were happy?"

"Not at first," she said honestly. "But yes. In the end I was very happy. Reinette made me happy." She lifted her fingers to wipe the tears from beneath her eyes. "I wish you could've met her. I really do."

"If the Doctor had looked after you better, I might have done," Jackie said, anger burning through her. Zoe lifted her head, taking care to find the right words that might help breach the wide chasm between her mother and her best friend.

"It wasn't his fault," she said quietly, aware that she might have to keep having the same fight with her mother. Jackie opened her mouth. "No, Mum, it wasn't. I messed up on the spaceship. The second I found out what the ship was called and I realised that it was related to the painting I saw, it messed with my head. I should have told him. Maybe we could have worked something out if I just told him about the painting and my worries but I didn't, so we did the best we could in the time we had."

She sat up and rested her hand on Jackie's thigh.

"It's easy to think he has all the answers," Zoe said, "but he's just as imperfect as the rest of us. And sometimes things go wrong. It wasn't his fault."

Jackie sighed and rested her head against the back of the sofa. "What is it about that man that makes you and Rose silly for him?"

"I'm not silly for him," she said, eyes rolling. "But he is my best friend, and a good man."

Jackie made a sound in her throat but she didn't argue. Instead, she lifted her arm and Zoe settled back into the soft, comforting space against her. Her eyes drifted back to the TV screen, and she fell asleep to Scarlett tricking her sister's fiancé into marrying her.

* * *

Rose came home late the next morning, her skin glowing from a girl's night in with Shareen and filled to the brim with gossip. She kissed her mother's cheek and tugged on her sister's curls before joining them for breakfast at the table where she proceeded to fill them in about Shareen's new bloke. He was an accountant from Essex who seemed to be more or less all right, although he was better groomed than most women Rose knew. They were laughing at Rose's attempt at an Essex accent when a sentence from the TV caught Zoe's attention and pulled her around, leaning on the back of her chair as she focused.

"It can't be," she said, dread filling her as the news report started to play, showing large fields within the borders of Cardiff where a large installation was to be built. She stood from her seat and turned the volume up as she stared intently at the screen.

"What?" Jackie asked whilst Rose leaned in her seat to get a better view of the TV around her sister's body.

"It's her," Zoe said, pointing with disbelief. "It's Margaret Blaine."

Jackie frowned. "Who?"

"The Slitheen from Downing Street," she said. "She was the one who kept us trapped, but I thought she'd died. What on earth –? Hold on. Everyone shut up."

She increased the volume and Margaret Blaine's voice filled the room. She was seventeen years old again and scared out of her mind in the cabinet rooms at Downing Street, certain she was going to die. Margaret's voice was nasally and exactly as she remembered it. She listened, her heart thumping loudly, as she waxed lyrical about a new nuclear power station that would soon be located in Cardiff.

"This isn't good," Zoe said when the camera cut back to the presenter in the studio to discuss the plans with an energy expert, a picture of Margaret on the screen behind them. "This is extremely very not good. Where's my phone?"

"Here," Rose said, tossing it to her. Zoe caught it deftly. "Wasn't she in Downin' Street when it blew?"

"She bloody should have been," she said, hitting her most recent contact and raising it to her ear. "She must have escaped. Although, how she did I have absolutely no idea because we barely got out of there in one –"

" _Zoe_!" The Doctor said cheerfully, thrilled to hear from her. " _Good morning._ "

"Piece," she finished. "Doctor, we have a problem."

" _If it's your mother, I can't help with that_ ," he said immediately. " _And I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want my help_."

"No, you sod, turn on the TV," Zoe said before turning back to look at Jackie. "Mum, what channel is this?"

"BBC Wales."

She paused. "Why are you watching that?"

"I like their accents," Jackie shrugged, and she looked to Rose. "It's kind of sexy."

Rose's face crinkled. "Eugh, Mum, gross."

"Oh, hell," Zoe grimaced. "BBC Wales, quickly."

The Doctor muttered to himself before he turned on the TV, and she knew the exact moment he saw what she did. " _That's not possible_."

"Yet there she is," she said, gesturing at the TV screen. "Bold as brass and very much alive."

"And messing with nuclear energy," the Doctor said, the frown audible in his voice. "In Cardiff of all places."

"Didn't you say there was a rift in time and space running through Cardiff because of that thing with the – oh, damn, I forget their name," Zoe said, her memory failing her. "You and Rose were there with Charles Dickens."

"The Gelth," Rose and the Doctor said at the same time.

She clicked her fingers. "That's the one."

"Yeah, and by adding nuclear energy on the top of that the possibility of all of Wales being destroyed is unnaturally high," the Doctor said, a hint of worry creeping into his voice. "I don't like this. Not one bit."

She rolled onto the balls of her feet. "Trip to Cardiff then?"

"Absolutely," he said. "You and Rose meet us in the TARDIS in ten."

"Be then in five," she promised and hung up before meeting Jackie's eyes. Her determination faded and she blinked. "Ah."

"Goin' somewhere?" Jackie asked pointedly.

"This is important," Zoe said, nerves making her twitchy. She gestured at the TV that was now showing the weather. "There's a Slitheen creating a nuclear plant on top of a rift in space and time, and I doubt it's for any good reason. We need to go."

"So I'll see you in another seven years then, will I?"

Zoe winced, and Rose looked up at the ceiling, sympathetic but not foolish enough to get involved.

"Come with us then," she offered without thinking. Rose whipped her head around, stunned She shook her head from side to side and mouthed _no_ at the sister that was ignoring her. "It's only to Cardiff, and you can see what it is that we actually do. I know you don't really get it so come and see for yourself."

Jackie hesitated. Rose looked between them with wide eyes as though realising she might just have fallen into a nightmarish reality.

"All right then," Jackie said, and Rose let out a little moan of horror. "But if we end up on Mars, I'm goin' to kill him."


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter Forty-Three**

"Why are you makin' a sandwich?" Rose asked, baffled as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen and looked at her mother who was putting slices of Tesco's own brand ham on a slice of buttered bread with a thin scraping of mayonnaise. "We need to go."

"What if we end up on Mars an' there's no food?" Jackie said, cutting a tomato into slices to layer it on top. "I don't want to starve."

"There's food on the TARDIS, Mum."

"Alien food."

"Food from Sainsbury's," she said, barely catching her sigh of annoyance as it filled her body. "It's where we do our shoppin'. You don't need that."

"I'm takin' it," Jackie said firmly, wrapping the sandwich in cling film.

"Oh my god, _Mum,_ " Rose groaned, losing the battle with her temper. "If you're goin' to be like this, just stay here. We're only goin' to Cardiff."

"You're only goin' to _Cardiff_?" She repeated, voice rising in incredulity. "Zoe was only goin' to a book festival an' look what happened there!"

Rose clamped her mouth shut and screamed her annoyance into its empty cavern before she turned around and strode away, frustrated beyond all measure at Jackie for coming along and at Zoe for extending the offer. She didn't want Jackie to come with them because who travelled with their mother? It was going to be awful, she was sure of it. A door opened from behind her, distracting her from her sullen rage; Zoe stepped out of the bathroom having washed her face and braided her hair back so that it wouldn't blow about her eyes. Her sister raised an eyebrow at the sight of Rose's cheeks that were flushed through and took in the fingers clenched into fists at her side. Rose just jerked her head in the direction of their mother and amusement spilled across Zoe's face before it disappeared when Jackie emerged from the kitchen with her sandwich and a Thermos flask of tea.

Confusion flickered. "Wha –?"

"Don't ask," Rose advised with flared nostrils. "Can we go now? Or d'you want to pack a bag as well?"

Jackie considered it. "Should I?"

"No!"

"Mum, it's fine," Zoe said calmly, hand on the small of her back. "We're just popping down to Cardiff. They have clothes there if we need them. Tea as well if you want to leave the Thermos behind."

"I'm not drinkin' alien tea."

"It's PG Tips!" Rose exclaimed, whirling around, throwing her hands up into the air. "We have PG Tips on the TARDIS!"

"Also a very nice blend from 9th century China," Zoe said, and Rose's face fell open at how unhelpful she was being. "But still Earth tea. Shall we get going then?"

Rose stomped loudly out of the flat, and Zoe pulled her coat on whilst Jackie did the same. It was cold outside, and there was a sharp wind that cut into them when they stepped out of their home, locking the door behind them. It would be worse in Cardiff where the city opened out onto the sea and the wind rolled in carrying the Arctic with it. She slipped her arm through her mother's and kept up a light stream of conversation so as to distract Jackie from what was about to happen and to distract herself from the thought of the Doctor's displeasure at having her onboard. She wasn't sure he was going agree to it, and she didn't want to have an argument with him so early in the morning. Their arguments were best left for the mid afternoon when both of them were more alert and could argue the points properly. It also gave them enough time to make up before they went to bed.

Early morning fights were really just an inconvenience.

"I've never actually been to Cardiff," Zoe said as they descended the urine-scented stairwell that had fresh graffiti with the tag of one of the Hiassen boys next to it: a tree turning to ash which then turned to money by the time it hit the ground, which she thought was an interesting portrayal of capitalism for teenagers. "I've been bouncing around time and space but I've never made it to Cardiff."

"I hope it's better than the last time I was there," Rose said, her temper having simmered down now that they were making progress towards the TARDIS. "I don't want to be trapped in a basement with ghosts again."

"Ghosts?" Jackie asked worriedly.

"Aliens who looked like ghosts," Rose corrected as though that made it better. "Called the Gelth. We blew up an undertakers because of them."

"Here's hoping we don't blow up anything this time," Zoe said, holding the smudged, perspex door open for them: cracks laced the surface where bikes or – most likely – feet had smacked into it. "Although now that I think about it, we do tend to blow things up a lot with the Doctor. There was Henrik's and Cardiff and then Downing Street."

Rose danced in front of them, spinning on the balls of her feet to face them, hands buried deep in the pockets of her jacket and the ends of her long scarf trailing against her thighs. "Everyone's got to have a hobby, right?"

"You sound like the Doctor!" Zoe yelled after her as she skipped away to reach the TARDIS first and she shook her head, amused. "Honestly."

"You two are mad," Jackie said. "Runnin' around after the Doctor an' blowin' things up."

"In our defence," she began, "he's normally the one doing the blowing up. We're sort of just there."

Jackie made an unimpressed sound in her throat. Nerves crawled into Zoe's stomach and began to sink their insidious grip into her. She wasn't quite sure what she would do if Jackie told her to stop travelling with the Doctor. She knew that she was an adult now but she was also acutely aware of how difficult it was for her mother to adapt to the changes that had been placed at her feet as a fait accompli. She wasn't ready to stop travelling though – not yet at least. Not whilst she was still grieving Reinette. He provided her with a solid foundation of support and love on which to rebuild herself, and she needed his strength whilst she found hers again.

She just looked ahead of her and reassured herself that no matter what happened she would figure it out.

Inside the TARDIS, excitement thrummed through the Doctor's fingers as he bustled around the console whilst a hungover Mickey dripped off the edges of the jump seat. He had already laughed his fill at the state of him and earned a gruff _fuck off_ and two raised fingers for the pleasure of it, but the Doctor had warned him that drinking with Jack would lead to agony the next morning – or he had thought about warning him, he couldn't remember which. At the very least Jack had managed to get Mickey into the shower so he didn't smell like sweat and booze, both of them stumbling into the TARDIS after a call from the Doctor about the events unfolding in Cardiff. Jack looked fresh faced and raring to go, and the Doctor did wonder whether there was something augmented about his ability to look perfect at any given time.

"And I tried this thing called a kebab," Jack said to him as he followed him around the console like a baby duck following its mother. "It was disgusting but for some reason it really hit the spot."

The Doctor wiped away a grease smudge from between two buttons. "It's the chemicals in the meat."

"Really?"

"No, you plum," he said, unconsciously echoing the Tylers. "You were drunk and wanted something greasy. It's a normal thing to crave."

"Oh," Jack said before turning to grin at Mickey who was barely listening, preferring instead to focus on his imminent death. "Not as drunk as Chaz though. I didn't realise people could get so drunk in the 21st century. The alcohol is weak but Chaz managed it."

"Chaz is a fuckin' idiot," Mickey groaned, pausing whilst questioning the life choices that had led him to his current state. "An' he only eats like one meal a day. Somethin' about a diet, I think, I don't really know."

"That's extremely unhealthy," the Doctor said with a frown. "Humans need more calories than one meal could possibly provide. Why would he do that?"

Mickey's shoulders rose in a shrug around his ears, and the Doctor finally took pity on him.

He rooted deep down into his pockets and found a packet of tablets that Zoe called hangover relief. Their official name was long and complicated with clicks in the middle that required a dexterous tongue, but they were essentially for dealing with hangovers. He kept some on him as Zoe occasionally drank a little more than she should. Though he found her charming when grumpily hungover, there was a fine line between charming and pain in the ass so he would set one by her morning coffee if she drank more than a bottle and a half of wine.

"Here," he said, tossing the blister pack at Mickey's head. It bounced off the back of his skull. "Take one of those. You'll be right as rain in a few minutes."

"What is it?" Mickey grouched, reaching for the pack with clumsy fingers. Jack, ever helpful, bounded forwards and scooped it up for him.

"Oh, it's –" the complicated name rolled neatly off his tongue, clicking and hissing in the correct spots. The Doctor looked mildly impressed. "These are good. They're pain relief. Dissolve on your tongue and enter your system through the roof of your mouth."

"Sounds gross," he complained even as he reached for the pack anyway. "Cheers, Doctor."

"Mmhmm," the Doctor said distractedly, fiddling with things that didn't need fiddling with as he waited for Zoe again.

She was running late, which was unusual for her as she was sometimes prompt to the point of rudeness.

He was surprisingly anxious to see her again. They hadn't spent a night apart since her return from France, and his skin itched with a desire to set eyes on her and reassure himself that she was all right. It was unnecessary: she was a grown woman and had spent six years without him in France. She didn't really need him at all but he couldn't tamp down the worry inside of him. His mind raced with all the things that could have happened from something as innocuous as tripping over a bump in the rug to being kidnapped by Judoon. He wasn't sure why the Judoon would kidnap her but he wasn't thinking clearly. He knew that he desperately needed to get a grip on himself. It wasn't healthy for him to be so consumed by Zoe Tyler for one, but she also hated his over protectiveness.

She viewed it as an assault against her autonomy and her competence – something she didn't mind telling him loudly and at length when he slipped over the invisible line she had drawn between them. So when the door opened and Rose entered with a wave of fresh air he didn't look up straight away. He listened for Zoe's footsteps and once he was certain she was inside, he started rambling whilst keeping his head down. In fact, he made a point not to look around at her at all, attempting to play it cool and casual.

"So I think she managed to get out of Downing Street by using a teleport," the Doctor said, launching into an explanation to cover his delight at having her back in the TARDIS. "Although where she got one from I don't know as she was pretty naked when we saw her last. Clearly she got the skin suit out with her so maybe it was there. I've been running some checks though, and it seems like she got out alone. There have been no reports of her brothers cropping up anywhere but that doesn't mean anything. They might be lying low and working behind the scenes. I hope not though. One Slitheen is enough to be dealing with I think. Anyway –" he looked up. "Morning."

His face dropped, and Zoe smiled at him.

"Mum's coming with us."

He blinked and stared at her before his eyes flicked to Jackie who stood just inside the door looking like an angry, frightened deer at the size of the TARDIS. She had only been inside once or twice, and she hadn't liked it any more then than she did now. Rose stood off to one side, chewing on the end of a long scarf, clearly filled with nervous tension. He looked back to Zoe and shook his head decisively as his foot, figuratively, went down.

"No. Absolutely not. No," he said, unable to grasp her thinking process that had led her to such a ridiculous decision. He kept shaking his head like the nodding dogs he had once kept on the dashboard of Bessie. He didn't care that he was being rude and Jackie was _right there_ and his face was still bruised from her assault. She couldn't come with them. "No. Non. Nyet. Nein."

"Doctor, can I have a word?" Zoe asked, voice perfectly polite but her eyes flashed in a manner that told him it was better for him if they spoke in private. He hesitated.

He normally liked time alone with Zoe but not if she was going to yell at him or linguistically manhandle him into agreeing to something he didn't want to do. He glanced over at Jackie who stood with her arms folded across her chest and a glower fixed on her face. Her temper didn't appear to have cooled overnight, and his face gave a throb at the memory of being punched by a woman who wore far too many rings to be going around throwing punches. Deciding that Zoe was the lesser of two evils, he let her usher him into a corner of the console room where a small amount of privacy was afforded to them by stepping off the central hub and standing behind a coral strut.

He looked down at her and a pleading expression filled out his face. "Zoe, no. This is a very bad idea"

"Zoe, yes," she replied. "Besides, it won't be that bad. It's not like we're going anywhere special. We're just going to Cardiff."

"I don't travel with people's mothers!" He protested in a sharp whisper, hands curled at his side so he didn't jab his finger at her. "And I don't do domestics."

"You folded my underwear just the other day," she reminded him, and the tips of his ears burned red at the memory. He had just been folding laundry whilst chatting to her until he realised that he had her cotton knickers in his hands and, in an attempt to bluster through his embarrassment, he had folded all of them. "And you're domestic with me all the time. A cup of coffee every morning; we do the washing up together; we go grocery shopping on Sundays because for some reason you think that's the only day we can do it."

"It's quiet, and the atmosphere is nicer." He rolled his eyes as though that was an obvious fact of the universe. "And you're different. You're, you know, _you_."

She looked up at him with a baffled look on her face, and now was not the time to get into why she was different for him.

"And she hates me," the Doctor said as though that solved everything. "Your mother hates me."

"Well...yes, she does," Zoe agreed. "But only because she doesn't really know you, and it's not like you've made the effort to get to know her." He scowled. "So maybe this is a good thing. Maybe if she understands what it is we actually do, she'll understand this whole thing better." She gestured at herself. "And it's only Cardiff. It's not like we're going off to the moon or anything. It's _Cardiff_."

"Zo-e." His voice turned into a whine, and he was half a second away from stamping his foot like a child. "I don't want to."

"Then I can't come," she said, and ice sliced through him, stealing his breath. "And before you get your boxers in a twist that's not an ultimatum. I just..." her body dipped on a sigh as though the strings operating her had slackened. "She's doing the best she can, Doctor. And I can't just swan off with you after dropping the bombshell of seven years on her and expect her to be okay with that. It's not fair."

He hated the fact that she was right.

He hated the fact that he cared that she was right.

He glanced back over to Jackie who was still staring daggers at him from across the room despite Jack's best efforts to engage her in conversation – for once Jack's charm was failing, and he was painfully confused by the failure. He met her eyes and the look on her face darkened. He swallowed and was suddenly aware of how close he was standing to her. He eased back a little and a brief flicker of confusion passed through Zoe's eyes before she shut it down.

"Fine," he sighed, and a small smile tugged at her lips. "But I'm not going to enjoy this."

"I'd be surprised if you did," she said, reaching out for him and taking his chin in her hand. His eyes darted to Jackie before fixing on Zoe's face. He had never been more acutely aware of her touch than in that moment. "Nasty bruise."

"It'll heal."

"I'm sorry she hit you."

"Don't be," he said, his entire body softening at her tender words. He reached up and circled his fingers around her wrist, gentle and familiar. "It was well-deserved."

"We both know it wasn't," she said, tapping his mouth with her thumb before she released him. He missed her touch instantly and wanted to chase it but he was aware of Jackie's disapproving presence and so he resisted. "Shall we get going then? Want me to drive?"

"Absolutely not," he said, and she grinned, following him back up onto the raised hub. "All right then, gang." He grimaced at the word. "Off to Cardiff."

Zoe clapped him on the shoulder. She stepped around him, her steps faltering briefly as though her shoes were caught on the grating when she saw Mickey who was sitting up and looking livelier than minutes earlier. Her breath left her in one fell swoop. She hadn't seen him in so long, and her eyes greedily feasted on him. He was just as she remembered – they all were – and that was part of the problem. She had changed so much but the people she loved remained the same. Her visit home was jarring because of that, but she swallowed back the discomfort, pressing the feelings down deep, ready to open them up again for her next session with Yatta. Instead, she pushed off from the Doctor's shoulder and tore her eyes away from the only brother she had ever known and made her way over to her mother.

"Mum, you might want to hold onto something," she advised, and Jackie uncinched her arms and gripped hold of a safety bar, knuckles turning white beneath her rings, but Jack was there to catch her anyway as the TARDIS lurched and they all went with the motion.

Jackie clung to the TARDIS and felt her heart race fearfully in her chest. Her fingers gripped the safety rail as tight as she could as the floor seemed to shift beneath her feet like a roiling ocean. Jack kept one hand on her back, fisted in her coat, whilst Rose stood at her other side with their arms linked. When she was a child, her father had taken her rally car racing. He had put her in the front seat and strapped a bike helmet to her head before setting them off around the course. Travelling in the TARDIS reminded her of that but with infinite more power behind it. Her stomach churned. She squeezed her eyes shut, certain she was going to die, but everything settled as quickly as it had started, like a storm passing overhead leaving behind only peace and serenity.

At the console, the Doctor belatedly remembered that Zoe sometimes got travel sick when he saw Jackie turn green. Before he could call out a warning, she lunged for the door and broke out onto Roald Dahl Plass where she vomited on the ground near the TARDIS. He winced, certain that wouldn't help matters between them; he took his time grabbing his jacket so that Rose and Zoe could tend to their mother. When he emerged into the pale light of day with Jack, she was wiping her mouth and looked a little shaky and green around the gills. He dug his hand into his pocket and removed the self-cleaning mouth strip that he occasionally gave to Zoe after such incidents. He extended it from a careful distance.

"It's toothpaste," he said to Jackie's mistrusting look. "Of a kind. You just put it on your tongue."

"It's fine, Mum," Zoe said, plucking it from his hand and unwrapping it for her. "I use them all the time. Well, most of the time. I don't get sick as much as I used to but sometimes we'll hit a bump and out comes my lunch."

"I've lost many an umbrella stand that way," the Doctor agreed, and Jackie popped the strip onto the surface of her tongue with a suspicious expression; it seemed to work as she didn't complain about it. He looked around. "Where the hell is Ricky?"

"I'm here," Mickey said, shutting the door to the TARDIS behind him whilst zipping up his own coat. "An' it's Mickey."

"Don't listen to him," Rose said, fiddling with her long scarf. "He's windin' you up."

Mickey's expression softened, and he stood next to her. Rose leaned her head on his shoulder, fingers touching his. He smiled down at her. "You look fantastic."

"Aw, sweet, look at these two," Jack teased, leaning back against the TARDIS, arms folded across his chest. He looked over to the Doctor. "How come I never get any of that?"

"Buy me a drink first," the Doctor said, and Zoe snorted.

"You're such hard work," Jack sighed.

"But worth it."

"You two are idiots," Zoe said, and they both grinned at her: twin faces of idiocy beaming at her. She moved forwards to greet Mickey finally. "Hey, you."

"Zo-Zo," Mickey smiled, and he swept her up into a warm hug. She laughed, relief flooding her, and hugged him back just as tightly. He smelt and felt exactly as she remembered; she closed her eyes, relishing the moment, before she pulled back and smiled widely at him. His expression was oddly serious when he was able to look at her properly. "Are you okay? They told me what happened."

"Yeah, I'm good," she said, and it was only a half lie. She enjoyed the faint smell of engine grease that she associated with him and only him. "Well, as good as can be expected."

"I'm so sorry about Reinette," he said quietly, and a thick lump of emotion lodged in her throat. She just nodded ,and he gave her a squeeze before releasing her.

"How've you been?" She asked him, once she found her voice again. "Work still going well?"

"Got promoted," he said, and there was an edge of pride in his voice that was well deserved as he was a brilliant mechanic. She beamed at him and slapped his arm lightly.

"Look at you!" She said happily. "You'll be running the place before you know it."

"Congratulations, Micks," Rose smiled at him.

Zoe turned just in time to throw the Doctor and Jack a scathing look of warning. She would murder them if they took anything away from Mickey's accomplishments, and they both looked away from her, mouths mercifully clamped shut. Instead, she offered her mother her arm and looked to the group that was larger than normal: two extra people did make them seem a little crowded.

"Shall we get going then?" She asked. "I'd like to pay Margaret a visit before she realises we're here."

"Who is she anyway?" Jack asked as they set off across the plaza, a sharp wind cutting in across the bay. "The Doctor didn't explain. Just said we had something to deal with in Cardiff and then there was lots of grumbling."

The Doctor scowled, and Zoe laughed.

"She's a member of the Slitheen family from Raxacoricofallapatorius," she explained, tugging the collar of her coat tighter around her bare neck. "I actually met her the day I met the Doctor. She and her brothers had killed people in positions of power so that they could access the nuclear codes from the United Nations. They wanted to turn Earth into molten slag and sell it off piece by piece."

"Mickey was able to send a missile to Downing Street where Zoe and I were," the Doctor picked up the thread of the story. "It destroyed the building and, I thought, killed the Slitheen along with it. But she survived. Somehow. She survived."

His voice darkened and storm clouds swept across his face. Jackie watched as Zoe reached out and touched his hand with hers. His expression cleared, and he looked down at her, a soft smile transforming his features. The change was quite marked, and Jackie's eyes dropped to their hands and tracked the passage of Zoe's thumb across the back of his hand, rubbing against his skin. Something coiled tightly within her, uncertain dread seeping into her bones; she didn't know why she was worried because their hands parted and Zoe put hers back in the pocket of her coat but the feeling lingered.

"And now she's proposing the building of a nuclear power station in the heart of Cardiff," Zoe completed. "For reasons I don't understand."

"What are we going to do about it then?" Jack asked, raring to go, distracting Jackie from her unformed suspicions. "A nuclear power station right in the heart of the city? Even you lot in this time should know that's not safe."

"We do," Mickey said, throwing his eyes to the Doctor. "So what's the plan, boss?"

"I say we pay Margaret Blaine a visit and have a nice little catch up," the Doctor said. "Mickey, what day is it?"

"Friday."

"Excellent," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Friday means she'll be at city hall. Let's go see if we can get an appointment."

City hall was only a thirty minute walk from the plaza, and the six of them walked there together. They took the time to give Jack more details about the last time they had encountered the Slitheen. He listened with interest as Rose explained the space ship crashing into the River Thames and how the world had been placed on high alert because of it, understanding now why there was scaffolding around Big Ben that was missing a chunk of its face. Even Mickey was able to join in and explain what had happened in his flat and how he, Jackie, and Rose had stopped the Slitheen using vinegar from his kitchen. Jack looked faintly impressed, and it was easy to see that Mickey enjoyed the attention.

"What's he goin' to do when he gets there?" Jackie asked Zoe from where they walked arm in arm behind the rest of the group, trailing by a few feet so that the sounds of their voices drifted back to them on the wind.

"Talk to her," she said simply. "Find out exactly why she's building a nuclear power station, and then put a stop to it if it's nefarious, which it most likely is."

"He's not goin' to kill her?"

Zoe blinked. "Of course not. He doesn't – he's not a killer, Mum."

"He blew up Downin' Street last time," Jackie pointed out. "With you in it, I might add."

"We got out in time," she said, cheeks heating up a little. "And it was either them or the entire planet. It's like – you remember Star Trek?"

"Hard to forget with how you wore out those VHS tapes," Jackie replied, having spent years listening to the theme tune of the various Star Trek episodes.

"There's an ideology in there that Spock introduced," Zoe said. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or of the one. Sometimes – not often but sometimes – he needs to make that decision. Most of the time, he's all about the individual but sometimes he needs weigh the fate of many against the fate of one. It's not an easy decision but someone has to make it."

Jackie shivered in the cold wind, her puffer jacket zipped up to her chin. "Why him though?"

"Better him than someone else," she shrugged. "The Time Lords were a funny lot from what he's told me. Trained all their lives to protect Time but they still didn't intervene when something went wrong. Apparently they were all quite stuffy."

"You've been there?" Jackie asked, pressing her fingers into her pockets to chase away the ring tinged cold in her fingertips. "His home?"

Something passed across her face, and she swallowed against the echo of a pain that didn't belong to her.

"His planet's gone," she said softly, squinting ahead to keep the emotion from her voice. "It was destroyed during the Last Great Time War. He's the last of his kind."

Jackie stared at the back of the Doctor's head. He was smiling at something Jack had said, Rose's arm threaded through his as Mickey laughed next to him.

"There's no one else?"

"He lost everything when his planet died," Zoe sighed, sadness clinging to her words. "Sometimes I think I can barely move for the pain of losing Reinette, but then I remember everything he's lost, and it helps get me out of bed – the knowledge that he's survived so much worse."

"You mentioned a wife," Jackie said, bits and pieces of information clicking together in her mind to form a fuller picture of the man her daughters were infatuated with. "Last night."

"She died centuries ago," she said. "Long before he left Gallifrey." She bumped shoulders with her mum. "There's more to him than you think there is. Like I said, he's really not that bad."

"Maybe. But for a _Time Lord_ –" her eyes rolled at the pretentiousness of his title and Zoe grinned, "– he's shit at bein' on time."

Zoe laughed out loud, and the Doctor looked back to catch her smiling with bright eyes. He quickly turned back around for fear of meeting Jackie's gaze.

"He is," she agreed. "But he's good at other things."

"He's not takin' advantage of you, is he?" Jackie asked, and Zoe's eyebrows rose quickly on her forehead.

"I'm sorry?"

"You two seem closer than before," she said, and Zoe's stomach gave an uncomfortable turn, heat prickling at her skin as though she was ashamed of something but she had done nothing to be ashamed of. "An' after Pete died, there were plenty of people who hung around an' tried to take advantage."

"Jesus, Mum," Zoe muttered, eyes darting around in the hope that no one had heard, skin burning with the heat of her embarrassment. "He's not takin' advantage. _Christ_."

A memory of Planet One sank into her, and she could feel the heat of the day on her skin and how happy she had been. She had been falling in love with him that day, moving from feelings of infatuation into something deeper, but then France had happened and those feelings were swept away by the strength of her love for Reinette. It was something she hadn't really thought about over the years, just an acceptance that it wouldn't happen between them for more reasons than just Reinette: her age, his age, her lifespan, his lifespan, despite the memory of a kiss from long ago. More than once in the early years of their relationship, her wife had suggested a ménage à trois with Louis, but Zoe had always demurred. Thinking about it now, Reinette would most certainly have suggested such a thing with the Doctor. Her blood ran hot at the thought of that. She missed a step, and Jackie caught her elbow quickly as a thundering rush of arousal roared through her body as she imagined her wife and the Doctor and _her_ all tangled in a bed together.

"You okay?" Jackie asked, squinting at her.

"I'm fine," she said quickly. Her skin felt hot, and there was a throb between her legs that she willed away. Her voice was sharper than she intended when she spoke again. "Just – he's not taking advantage. That's not who he is."

"All right," Jackie said, tone heavily implying she was only letting it go because of Zoe's odd reaction to the suggestion.

She let go of Zoe's elbow once she was steady on her feet again. Zoe shook the unexpected arousal from her and cleared her throat, uncomfortable at where her mind had taken her.

Fortunately, they reached their destination sooner rather than later. The building that hosted the centre of Cardiff politics was an attractive building with a huge clock tower and a domed roof in the centre of the rectangular building. Cars were parked outside, and flags were streaming out in the wind – the Welsh, British, and European Union flags were attached to poles outside the building. It didn't seem that busy, and it was a little too easy to walk into the foyer of the city hall. There were no security guards preventing them from doing so. Maybe Zoe had grown a little too used to having to break into various government buildings that the lack of security set her on edge.

They climbed to the top of the sweeping staircase and looked around. The Doctor opened his mouth to give instructions but Jack beat him too it.

"According to intelligence," he began, and the Doctor looked at him in surprise, "the target is the last surviving member of the Slitheen family, a criminal sect from the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius, masquerading as a human being zipped inside a skin suit. Okay, plan of attack - we assume a basic fifty seven-fifty six strategy covering all available exits on the ground floor. Doctor, you go face to face. That'll designate Exit One, I'll cover Exit Two. Rose and Mickey, you Exit Three. Zoe, you and your mum take Exit Four. Have you got that?"

"Excuse me," the Doctor said, and Zoe stared up at the ceiling to stop the laughter that bubbled up inside of her spilling out. "Who's in charge?"

"Zoe," Jack replied cheekily, and the laughter did spill out. The Doctor looked offended. "Sorry. Awaiting orders, sir."

"Right, here's the plan," he said, and there was a pause. "Dammit, like he said. It's a good plan. Except I'll be taking Zoe with me. Mickey, you cover Exit Four with Jackie."

"I'm not lettin' her out of my sight," Jackie said firmly, and the Doctor hesitated.

"All right then," he agreed. "Me, Zo, and Jackie will go face to face. Anything else?"

They shook their heads.

"Present arms," Jack said and they all pulled out a mobile, except for the Doctor who would be using Zoe's, and they synced the time and matched speed dials with each other. "Ready? Excellent. See you in hell."

"He's so dramatic," Zoe said fondly, watching him walk away as Rose and Mickey split off to cover their separate exits. "Is there a reason you need me with you?"

"Need you? No," he said, wanting to offer his hand but it twitched at his side instead, discomfited by Jackie's presence "Want you? Always."

"You're incredibly sweet," she told him with a smile that he couldn't help but return, the tips of his ears tingling; he felt like a boy of fifty with a crush again. "If only your enemies knew this about you."

He grinned at her before the smile faltered off Jackie's expression who was clearly unimpressed with their light back and forth. The mirth and warmth disappeared from his face, and he cleared his throat. He gave his jacket a sharp tug and pointed down the hall. He set off, trusting that Zoe would follow, and he tried hard not to look back. With Jackie there every innocuous look and touch he gave to Zoe seemed to be overlaid with dirty connotations, and he was afraid that he would get another broken nose for his troubles if she thought he was sniffing around her daughter.

He swallowed, mouth dry, already eagerly anticipating their departure from Earth.

He led them around the corner and through wide set doors with polished wood and gleaming brass handles and into the outer office of the mayor's domain. There was a young man sitting at the desk by the door, a radio playing the local news at a low volume, the Welsh words seeping into the air only to be translated by the TARDIS before they reached their ears. His name plate – a cheap plastic thing that looked as though it had been bought from Poundland – said his name was Idris Jones. The Doctor glanced back at Zoe with a small quirk of his eyebrow; she nodded and left her mother's side so that they could tag team the poor assistant whilst Jackie lingered behind them, watching closely.

"Hello," the Doctor greeted cheerily, and Idris looked up from the granola bar that he was picking apart. "We've come to see the Lord Mayor."

"Have you got an appointment?" Idris asked with a lovely lilting Welsh accent, his eyes flickering over the three of them.

"No, no, just some old friends passing by," the Doctor said. Zoe leaned against him, an arm around his waist whilst his went around his shoulders, and she smiled winningly at the man who seemed to be of an age with her. "Bit of a surprise actually. Can't wait to see her face. Can you, Zo?"

"I really can't," she said honestly. "It's been such a long time."

"Well..." he said uncertainly. "She's just having a cup of tea."

"Oh, I love a cup of tea," Zoe said eagerly, glancing back over her shoulder to Jackie who was watching the conversation unfold with raised eyebrows. "Don't you just love a cup of tea, Mum?"

"Yeah, sure, cup of tea," she said unconvincingly, and Zoe pulled a face at her for her lack of helpfulness.

"So just pop your head in there and tell her that the Doctor and Zoe Tyler would very much like to see her," Zoe continued, turning around to look back at Idris who was still stationary, his fingers sticky with crumbs of his mid-morning snack.

He hesitated. "Doctor and Mrs Tyler?"

"No, no, just the Doctor and Zoe Tyler," the Doctor said, correcting the mistake that happened nearly everywhere they went. "Two separate people, two separate names."

"Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor," he said. "Tell her exactly that. The Doctor."

"All right," Idris said. Though he still looked uncertain, he moved to do as they requested if only to get them to leave him alone – the Doctor tended to have that effect on people. "Hang on a tick."

They watched as Idris rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles, ear pressed close, before he slipped inside and shut it lightly behind him.

"How d'you get around not havin' a name?" Jackie asked, and he turned his body to look at her, accidentally dragging Zoe around with him.

"I have a name," he said. "It's the Doctor."

"It's a silly name," she said, and he opened his mouth to argue with her but Zoe squeezed his side through the leather of his jacket and he snapped it shut again, glowering at her mother who looked supremely unbothered by his mood.

They could hear the murmur of Idris's voice through the door, and Zoe sat on the edge of the desk and waited, bumping the back of her shoes against the cheap wooden panelling, her fingers tapping lightly against the side of it. The Doctor ran his finger over the top of the man's computer and came away with dust. He showed it to Zoe, and she raised her eyebrows, mouth twitching at his petty observation. She had yet to see him dust the TARDIS though he did occasionally clean with her when she got it into her mind to do so. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly at the mess before there was the sound of a tea cup smashing on the floor. Jackie looked startled but Zoe just looked down at her feet and tried not to smile.

Idris reappeared, and he looked flustered: a red flush clung to his pale skin.

"The Lord Mayor says thank you for popping by," he said nervously as his eyes darted behind him, his hand wrapped around the door handle. "She'd love to have a chat, but - er - she's up to her eyes in paperwork. Perhaps if you could make an appointment for next week?"

There was a beat of silence as the Doctor and Zoe exchanged a look.

"She's climbing out of the window, isn't she?" The Doctor asked sympathetically, and Idris looked completely lost and confused.

"Yes. Yes, she is."

Zoe pressed a hand to her face and laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit her speed dial – three people answered at once. "Target heading North."

" _Copy that,_ " Jack said, and she heard him issuing instructions to Rose and Mickey before they disconnected.

She bounced to her feet, and she feinted at Idris who cringed away from her, proving he wouldn't be a problem; it allowed Doctor to slip into the office unmolested. Margaret Blaine stared at him, legs straddling the window, panic on her flabby face.

"Hello, Margaret!"

Margaret let out a sound like a cornered animal, and she tumbled out of the window onto the fire escape. She landed with a heavy thud and a pained sound. Before he could move to the window, Zoe appeared at his side with her hand locked around Jackie's whilst Idris peered through the open door worriedly. He wasn't sure whether he should call security on not, and his hand gripped the bottom of his tie as he watched, mouth slack.

"Where -?" She started, looking around for Margaret.

"This way," the Doctor said, and they hurried over to the window to see Margaret scrambling down the ladder. "Oh, dear."

"I've got this," Zoe said with a grin. She released her mother's hand and shrugged out of her coat, pressing it into the Doctor's arm. "Did I ever tell you about the time Reinette and I broke into the Bastille with nothing more than a length of rope and our good intentions?"

"No," he said, taken aback. "Why would you do that?"

"Shits and giggles," she lied with a laugh whilst she slipped out of the window and onto the fire escape where the cool air bit at her exposed skin.

She peered over the edge of the fire escape and calculated the distance to the ground. She couldn't jump as she would do herself some serious damage but it would take too long to navigate the ladder. Instead, wishing she had rope, she climbed over the side of the railing and ignored the swooping feeling in her stomach that came with being so high up. She braced her feet and glanced down at the structure before she scaled down the outside of the escape like a particularly nervous monkey.

She moved quickly and easily, her feet unerringly finding the correct foot hold every time. The Doctor watched her from above with curious fascination whilst Jackie peered down at her with worry on her face. She had one hand gripping the arm of the Doctor's jacket, and she looked wan in the pale light of day. Her worry was for nothing though as Zoe landed neatly on her feet at the bottom, and her stomach settled as she brushed her hands off on her T-shirt.

She had made good time because shortly after her feet touched the ground so did Margaret's.

Her hand shot out. She grasped hold of the other woman's shoulders when her feet stepped off the metal staircase. The alien screamed in surprise, a full-body flinch running through her as though she had been electrocuted.

"Margaret Blaine," Zoe greeted, voice cool and hand firm and unmoving on her shoulder, locking her in place. "Remember me?"

Out of breath and panting, Margaret twisted her body out from under Zoe's touch and reached for her earring but Zoe was quicker and plucked it from her ear. Anyone else would have yelped in pain as the earring tore through the flesh of the lobe but the skin suit wasn't connected to her nervous system and so she felt nothing. Her eyes widened with annoyance and mulish disappointment when Zoe held the earring aloft, examining it whilst keeping a tight grip on Margaret.

"Interesting," she said, holding it up to the sky so the light shone on it better. "Tell me, is this a teleport? Or a cloaking device? My gut says teleport but honestly I've been wrong before."

"This is persecution!" Margaret protested as the Doctor descended from the ladder, helping Jackie down as he did so, Zoe's coat tossed over one shoulder. Rose, Jack and Mickey sprinted down the alley from different directions but, upon seeing that Zoe had the situation under control, they slowed to a jog. "Why can't you leave me alone? What did I ever do to you?"

"You tried to kill me and destroy my planet," Zoe reminded her, and Margaret rolled her eyes.

"Well, apart from that."


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter Forty-Four**

Between the Doctor's glowering face and Zoe's stiff fingered grip on her shoulder, Margaret had no option but to allow herself to be marched back into City Hall. She complained volubly on the way, and Rose rolled her eyes at the litany of grievances aired against them – persecution, harassment, and the like. She fell back so that she could walk beside her mother who wasn't able to take her eyes off Margaret's forehead, surprised that the zipper she knew was there wasn't visible. Despite it being a Friday no one seemed to notice that the Lord Mayor was being frogmarched into the building by an eclectic group of strangers – a situation that might have drawn some notice if it wasn't lunchtime.

Having relinquished her hold on Margaret into Jack's capable hands, Margaret's next complaint was about how painful his grip was. He shifted his grasp on her and her speech was unexpectedly cut off.

"It doesn't hurt," Jack told her, holding her as he had been trained to do as a Time Agent: hand curled around a pressure point just beneath the joint of her elbow. "Honestly. It's like Venusian Aikido but with an extra _oomph_ to it."

"What's that?" Zoe asked, sniffing her hands distastefully.

They smelt like oxidising iron from having scaled down the side of the fire escape. She skipped ahead so that she could plunge her hand into the Doctor's jacket, rifling around in the depths for the hand wash that she knew he kept there. He didn't even take notice of her hand in his pocket, merely leaning his body to one side so that she had unimpeded access as his eyes swept the empty corridors. It was a little surprising that Idris hadn't raised the alarm that a group of people had chased the Lord Mayor out of a window and down a fire escape.

"It's a type of martial art," Jack said. "Very difficult for two-armed beings to master."

"I'm a grandmaster pacifist," the Doctor said just as she found the hand wash and pulled it open, face dropping in disappointment when she saw that it was scented by bananas. "It's a great martial art – temporarily paralyses whilst being fundamentally harmless. Thought up by nuns."

She rubbed the awful banana scent into her hands. The Doctor, experiencing a Pavlovian reaction, smiled.

They approached the Lord Mayor's office and saw that Idris was gone. His absence was expected but only very slightly concerning. It was more likely that they had scared him off than anything else as it wouldn't have been the first time they overwhelmed a minor government worker. The Doctor held open the door to Margaret's large office and they passed by him, Zoe giving him a distracted smile as she walked past and heat bloomed in his stomach. He chastised himself to pay attention to the situation and not on how pretty Zoe looked when she smiled.

Jack finally let Margaret go, and the temporary paralysis of her speech disappeared and she worked her jaw, scowling at him in distaste: an expression people didn't normally direct at Jack Harkness.

"What are you even doing here?" Margaret asked, voice laced with irritation. She had moved away from being afraid and straight into annoyance. Not that she felt she could be blamed. She had been enjoying a nice cup of tea before being interrupted by the last people she wanted to see after all. "You can normally be found interfering in business that doesn't concern you in London."

"Are you sure that's the tone you want to set for this conversation?" Zoe asked her with a questioning, unimpressed look. She slipped the hand wash back into the Doctor's pocket. "Because the way I see it, you're one short hop away from a meeting with the judiciary branch of the Shadow Proclamation. Do you think it's wise to piss us off?"

Margaret's nostrils flared, and she looked at Zoe to take her measure. "You've changed."

"I wish I could say the same for you," she said simply. "How did you manage to escape Downing Street?"

The Doctor picked up a file on Margaret's desk and flicked through it rapidly, absorbing the information quicker than humans could comprehend; the contents worried him.

"I had an emergency teleport," she said. "And I was able to leave in the moments before the explosion that butchered my family."

"I notice you didn't take them with you," Zoe said, leaning back against Margaret's desk and folding her arms across her chest. "No heroes amongst thieves, I suppose."

"It only had enough power to carry one," Margaret said, her jaw tightening and the muscles beneath the excess fat flickered. "I had to leave my brothers behind...I had to leave them to die in your explosion of fire. Tell me, Miss Tyler, how do you sleep at night knowing that you so easily helped to murder my family?"

"Enough," the Doctor said sharply, snapping the last file shut. Zoe, whose mouth had opened to respond to the accusation, didn't respond. Margaret's eyes flickered over the Doctor warily. "You made your own bed, Margaret. I warned you what that I would stop you. It's not Zoe's fault you didn't pay attention to that warning."

Margaret looked away, something bitter and hurt flashing across her face.

"Why d'you stay here?" Jackie asked into the silence of the Doctor's pointed words. Everyone turned to look at her, and she gave a small shrug. "If I'd just tried to destroy the planet, I wouldn't want to hang around."

"That's...actually that's a good point," the Doctor said, blinking as though surprised. "Good job, Jackie."

Her eyes narrowed, unimpressed. "Patronisin' git."

The Doctor's ears prickled with heat.

"So, you're a Slitheen, you're on Earth, and I'm guessing you're trapped," he said, focusing all of his attention on Margaret. "Because Jackie's right. Why stay? Your family get killed but you teleport out just in the nick of time. You have no means of escape because you crashed your ship into the Thames and you can't get close to it. So what do you do? You build a nuclear power station. But what for?"

"A philanthropic gesture," Margaret smiled with a wide gesture of her hands. Rose snorted and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "I've learned the error of my ways."

"And it just so happens to be right on top of the rift?" Zoe asked. "How convenient."

"What rift would that be?" She asked innocently, fooling no one.

"A rift in space and time," Jack said. He had been circling the table that held a facsimile of the nuclear station constructed upon it, examining it with interest. "If this power station went into meltdown, the entire planet would go -"

He mimed an explosion with his hands and mouth.

"This station is designed to explode the minute it reaches capacity," the Doctor said, gesturing with the relevant file; Margaret's eyes lingered on it, lips tightening. "It seems that you're not redeeming yourself but rather staying true to form."

"Didn't anyone notice?" Rose asked, scarf trailing against her knees. "Isn't there someone in London checkin' this sort of stuff?"

"We're in Cardiff, London doesn't care," Margaret said dismissively before looking surprised and disgusted with herself. "Oh. I sound like a Welshman. God help me, I've gone native."

"But why would she do that?" Mickey asked. He was hovering on the edge of the room as though uncertain of his place in everything. The last time he had been involved in aliens on Earth, he was in his flat behind a computer covered in Slitheen following the Doctor's orders. It was a bit different having to work it out on the ground. "A great big explosion, she'd only end up killing herself."

"She's got a name, you know," Margaret said snidely.

"She's not even a _she_ ," Mickey shot back, and Zoe smiled. "She's a thing."

"Oh, but she's clever," the Doctor said, and the room's attention shifted to him.

He was taking apart the miniature structure as he wont to do. Sometimes it was a struggle to get him to leave technology in tact, and they had been able to introduce a blanket ban on him not touching the technology in the kitchen on the TARDIS but his hands seemed to have a life of their own sometimes, always wanting to pull things apart to see how it worked. He pulled the middle section out of the model and turned it over to reveal a circuit board of electronics. Zoe pushed away from the desk and walked over to look at it, curious but unexcited. Jack however was filled with childlike excitement, and his hands reached for it before he could stop himself.

"Is that a tribophysical waveform macro-kinetic extrapolator?" He asked rapidly, eyes bright and wide.

"Couldn't have put it better myself," the Doctor grinned, letting Jack take it from his hands.

"Ooo, genius!" Jack cooed, one short step away from stroking the thing. He looked at Margaret knowingly even as he showed Zoe the circuitry that she couldn't begin to understand. "You didn't build this."

"I have my hobbies," Margaret said, looking bashful. "A little tinkering."

"No, no, no." He shook his head. "I mean, you really didn't build this. This is way beyond you."

"Where did it come from then?" Rose asked.

"It fell into my hands," Margaret said.

"So you stole it then?" She snorted. "Typical."

"No," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "I think she meant that literally. Cardiff is at the centre of a very powerful rift in space and time. I imagine all sorts of things fall through the rift just waiting to be discovered. I'll be surprised if UNIT doesn't have an office here."

"Cardiff is outside UNIT's jurisdiction, Doctor," Margaret said pointedly. "I'm surprised you don't know that."

He frowned at her.

"What is it?" Jackie asked, moving to stand by her daughters rather than remain on the outskirts of the office. Her own curiosity propelled her forwards; the very same curiosity that had led her two daughters to jump into a spaceship with a big-eared alien. "A weapon?"

"It's a transport," Jack said. He set it down on the ground and hopped up onto it as though trying to catch a wave. "You see, if the reactor blows then the rift opens – _phenomenal_ cosmic disaster. But this thing shrouds you in a forcefield. You have this energy bubble, so you're safe. Then you feed it coordinates, stand on top, and ride the concussion all the way out of the solar system."

"It's a surfboard," Mickey said, and Jack jumped off it.

"A pan-dimensional surfboard, but yeah."

"And it would've worked," Margaret said bitterly. "I'd have surfed away from this dead-end dump and back to civilisation."

"Margaret," Zoe said conversationally. "I'm finding myself filled with this urge to punch you in the face if you keep talking."

The Doctor placed his hand on her shoulder, a calming touch that spread through her. She wasn't sure why but Margaret was rubbing her the wrong way. She had felt so helpless the first time around: seventeen years old and just on the cusp of an amazing adventure but with the threat of a fiery death lingering in the air. She wondered if those feelings from years ago where pressing forward into her and making her anger spike as it was a fear not easily forgotten. She swallowed it back. Reinette had once told her that by giving into anger was giving an easy win to one's opponent; she had been called all sorts in her role as Chief Mistress but as long as she held the high ground then those who abused her would look weak and petty.

"We're going to take you home," the Doctor said, and Zoe twisted in his gentle grip and stared up at him.

"You're kidding me?" She asked, gesturing across the room at her. "This woman has twice tried to destroy my planet and we're just going to take her home? She needs to be punished for what she's done, Doctor. She needs to be put on trial and then sentenced by whatever government she answers to or-or the bloody Shadow Proclamation."

"Unfortunately, the Shadow Proclamation won't adjudicate on this matter," he explained, releasing her shoulder and shoving his hands deep into his pockets so he didn't keep touching her. Not normally a problem but he suspected Jackie was more observant than she let on. "They only intervene when a crime's already been committed. Attempted crime doesn't concern them."

"So even though she came within minutes of destroying Earth that doesn't count as a crime?"

"Technically...yeah."

"Jesus Christ." She closed her eyes. "I would've thought space politics would be a little more advanced than Earth politics."

"Not really," he said sympathetically. "Just a mass network of bureaucracy, confusion, and a lot of paperwork. Seriously, a _lot_ of paperwork."

"Fucking politics," she muttered. "I thought I was done with it after France." She sighed. "I'm not in favour of letting her go. She needs to pay for her crimes."

"And she will," he assured her. "On Raxacoricofallapatorius."

"They have the death penalty," Margaret said, voice slow and filled with something that brushed up against fear. Zoe turned her head to look at her. "The family Slitheen was tried in its absence many years ago and found guilty with no chance of appeal. According to the statutes of government, the moment I return I am to be executed. What do you make of that, Zoe? Take me home and you take me to my death."

"Perhaps," Zoe began carefully, "you should have thought of what the consequences would be before you tried to destroy my world – _twice_."

"Let's get her back to the TARDIS," the Doctor suggested. "We'll drop her off on her planet and explain the situation to her government and then we'll come back."

"We're goin' to bloody Mars," Jackie groaned, already looking sick.

"Not even close to Mars, Jackie," he said, nostrils flaring and eyes rolling briefly. "The planets are really far apart."

"Mars, not Mars, what's the difference?"

"A lot!" He exclaimed. "Mars is a barren wasteland, and –" Rose cleared her throat pointedly and looked up at him, her scarf covering her mouth. She raised her eyebrows, and he remembered what he was doing. "Right. Never mind. Margaret, you're coming with us."

"I suppose this is novel for you, isn't it, Doctor?" Margaret asked, holding his eyes when they caught on hers. "You've never stuck around for the aftermath, have you? Always running off to the stars with your young and pretty companions. How nice it must be to turn your back on the consequences of your actions."

"Save it," Jack said, shattering the growing tension. "You can't talk, bribe, threaten, or guilt your way out of this. So just –"

The doors burst open, and Zoe jumped. She felt as though her skeleton ripped free of her skin whilst Jackie let out a small scream of fear mingled with surprise. Idris was standing in the doorway, panting heavily, red in his face with two uniformed police officers flanking him, and he pointed.

"Them," he gasped. "They're the ones."

"Idris!" Margaret trilled delightedly, and she made to move towards him but Mickey grabbed hold of her quickly. "Please, help me. These people are insane."

"Oh, hell," Zoe complained. "This is just what we need."

"Ah, gentlemen, if you'll wait a moment," the Doctor said, reaching into his pockets for his psychic paper. "We're with UNIT. I have all the documentation right here – _somewhere_ – in these pockets, and I – I can't find it."

Rose stared at him. "You what?"

"I can't find my psychic paper," he repeated, searching with increasingly frantic movements. "I swear I had it just the other day, and I always put it back in my pocket. Zoe, do you have it?"

She checked her pockets but aside from the usual bits and pieces she kept in there – her phone, some breath mints, a small bag of orange sherbets, a hair tie, and some lip balm – she was out of luck.

"Sir," the tallest of the officers, his hand on his taser, directed to Mickey. "Release the Lord Mayor now."

Mickey hesitated. "Er –"

"We're here for the prime minister," Jackie lied, speaking without thinking, and all movement in the room stilled at the bald faced lie. Once more everyone turned to look at her, and Zoe stared at her, slowly shaking her head from side to side, silently asking what she was doing but it was too late as the lie was out there in the room. "She sent us here to interview the mayor about – er – missin' funds. We're the fraud inspectors."

Her face grimaced a little at the lie but she held her nerve, well-used to talking large in front of police officers.

"Really?" The officer asked, voice dripping with disbelief. His eyes flicked up and down Jackie who was wearing her puffer jacket and pink tracksuit. "The prime minister sent _you?"_

"Oi!" Rose and Zoe said in unison, reading the insult to their mother loud and clear.

"Yeah, what of it?" She said defensively whilst the Doctor marvelled at the sheer brass of her lie, understanding more fully how Rose and Zoe came to be the women they were: steady, brave, and with an edge of bossiness that he liked a little too much. "Give her a call. Tell her that the Doctor an' Zoe Tyler are here with the mayor to do the fraud investigation she ordered."

"Absolutely not!" Margaret protested, an edge of panic creeping into her eyes that the Doctor missed because he was too busy delighting over Jackie's behaviour. "What a waste of the prime minister's time."

"We're not going to bother Downing Street with this," the police officer replied, his Welsh accent not as sexy in person as Jackie though it would be. "Not for some prank or protest. Reckon you lot are climate protestors, right? We've had the lot of you out protesting this nuclear plant for weeks."

"We work for the government," Jackie said again, sticking to the lie. "Just give Harriet Jones a call an' she'll tell you the same thing."

"Harriet Jones?" The Doctor repeated at the same time as Zoe's body gave a twitch of recognition. He looked at Jackie and beamed at her, his smile so wide it hurt as it stretched across his face, because _of course!_ He took back every mean thought he had ever had about Jackie Tyler as she was clearly a genius. "You know, Jackie, I think you're right. Go on then, chaps. Give the PM a call. We'll wait right here with the mayor until you're finished."

He sat down in a seat and rested his ankle on his knee, arms folded across his chest, unwilling to move until Harriet Jones confirmed that they were doing exactly what they had lied about.

The police officers looked at each other, uncertain.

* * *

 _Prime Minister's temporary office, Chequers_

"And you need to sign this as well," Alex said, sliding a piece of paper in front of the prime minister who stared at it, her eyes fuzzy from dozens of similar pieces of paper she had seen in the last ten minutes. "It's a congratulations letter for Stephen Barrett."

"Who is Stephen Barrett?" Harriet Jones asked, a delicate throbbing in her temples making her wish that her thoroughly capable assistant was elsewhere for just five minutes so she could have a cup of tea and a bit of peace and quiet.

"He's a nine-year-old boy who won the competition to design a commemorative stamp to celebrate Earth Day."

"Right," Harriet said, signing her name carefully on the piece of paper that she was certain contained appropriately encouraging words for the young boy. Once upon a time she would have spent hours writing the letter herself but these days she barely had time to breathe let alone sit down and write to a nine-year-old boy. "What else?"

"The cabinet meeting has been brought forward to 3pm but it will end at 4.30, on the dot." he said, checking his list. "Because you then have a meeting with the MP for Hartlepool that has already been delayed six times."

Harriet winced.

"After that, you have your daily phone call with your mother, dinner with the French Foreign Minister, and a call with the Thai president to discuss the detention of Bethany Winters," Alex concluded; he looked up from his list and gave her a smile. "You'll be in bed by eleven at the latest."

"I suppose we must take our victories where we can," she decided, exhaustion settling heavily on her shoulders, and she stifled the yawn that brewed in the back of her throat.

She knew that she wasn't the natural choice for prime minister but in the few months she had been leader of Great Britain and Northern Ireland she liked to think she had made some improvements to the country: cottage hospitals were now fully funded and mental health units across the country were receiving proper funding, pushed through by emergency legislation. There was so much to do though that she sometimes felt overwhelmed by the sheer weight of what she had signed up for. She hadn't expected it to be easy but she also hadn't expected it to be quite so non-stop, and she felt that she hadn't quite caught her breath yet from her explosive entrance onto the national and international stage.

Her desk phone rang, and her hand twitched towards it but she had slowly got used to not answering her phone when Alex was in the room; although, it still did bother her a little. The lack of autonomy for the small things that she was used to doing such as making her own tea or fetching her own lunch was something that she didn't enjoy about her position. Overall though, she was happy to be where she was. She truly believed that she could do good work in however much time the British people decided to give her.

"I'm sorry, who?" Alex said into the phone, a frown marring his features. She leaned back in her chair to ease the pressure on the small of her back. "The Doctor? Doctor who?"

Her stomach tightened and her blood ran hot as it rushed through her ears.

"Give me that," Harriet demanded, hand held out, her impeccable manners momentarily deserting her. Alex hesitated but he passed the phone into her hand. "Harriet Jones, prime minister."

" _Oh, er, hello, prime minister,_ " a surprised Welsh voice said on the other end, surprised to have actually reached her. " _Well, this is a little embarrassing but we have a slight situation here in the Lord Mayor's office in Cardiff._ "

"There is a man there?" Harriet asked, excitement thrumming through her. "Leather jacket, somewhat overlarge ears, and an unexpectedly strong Northern accent considering where he's from? Calls himself the Doctor?"

" _Er – yes, ma'am,_ " he said. " _He's with a group of people including a young woman called_ –"

"Zoe Tyler."

A smile spread across her face at the memory of her brave young friend with her denim jacket that never seemed to sit right on her gangly frame.

" _You know them, ma'am_?" The man asked hesitantly, recalculating what he thought he had known was going on.

"I absolutely know them," she said, unable to stop smiling, earning an odd look from Alex. "And you are to give them your full and unimpeded support. They have the full weight of my office and the British government behind them. Is that clear?"

" _Yes, ma'am, perfectly, ma'am,_ " he said, his accent sharpening as he accepted his orders from the prime minister. " _Sorry to bother you, ma'am_."

Harriet placed the phone back on the receiver. She leaned back in her chair and laughed like she hadn't laughed in months. It felt so good. Alex stared at her, watching her with growing concern, until she carefully wiped beneath her eyes with her fingertips.

"Alex," she said, her face hurting from the laughter. "Who's the Mayor of Cardiff?"

"Er –" he hesitated, and his mind went blank. "I think it's – er – I'm sure – I – I don't actually know, ma'am. I'm sorry. I'll find out for you now."

He picked up the phone again, and Harriet rocked from side to side in her chair. It had been months since she had seen the Doctor and Zoe. The last time she had seen them was on the street outside Downing Street, which was still undergoing repairs. Zoe's hair was coated in dust and she had a few cuts on her face whilst the Doctor seemed entirely unperturbed by the whole incident. She hadn't said goodbye to them properly as too many things had needed to be done but she had checked in on Zoe from afar. She knew that she had done well on her A-Levels and was occasionally seen in the company of the Doctor around London.

According to Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, Zoe was travelling with the Doctor and her sister and sometimes, late at night after a long day, Harriet wondered what that would be like.

"Margaret Blaine," Alex said, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up sharply at the familiar name. "The Mayor of Cardiff is Margaret Blaine."

"I see," Harriet said, amusement sliding from her as she thought of that large, fleshy woman who had once hunted her and Zoe through the halls of Downing Street. "Find out how she got elected."

"Ma'am?"

"It's important," she said, wanting to know how she had missed a Slitheen that she knew from getting a foothold of power in a place where there was a large rift in time and space. "But before you do that. Get me Yvonne Hartman from Torchwood."

"Yes, ma'am."

Alex left her office, and she rose to her feet. Whatever was happening in Cardiff she was more than confident that the Doctor and Zoe could handle but she wanted answers and Yvonne hadn't yet let her down.

* * *

By the time that the police officers let them leave the office with a bitterly complaining Margaret back in Jack's firm grip, night was creeping in. A sharp chill swept over them when they stepped outside. Zoe tightened her coat about her throat, linking arms with her mum and grinning at her. The Doctor and Jack flanked Margaret as they began the walk back to the TARDIS under rain heavy skies, the clouds threatening to burst but holding off for now. There was a low rumble in the air as thunder began to build and Cardiff seemed to be gearing up for a fierce storm, electricity crackling and making the skin on the back of Zoe's neck prickle.

"How did you know to call for Harriet?" Zoe asked. "And since when was Harriet the prime minister?"

"Couple of months ago," Jackie said, unable to keep a small, pleased smile off her face, smug in her success and in confusing the Doctor with her help. "Won in a landslide. I'm eighteen quid a week better off under her."

"Go, Harriet," she said with a smile. "Huh. I know the prime minister."

"Aren't you also mates with the King of France?" Rose asked, skipping along beside them, the ends of her scarf twirling as she did so, hand in Mickey's.

"Wait," Mickey said. "You know the King of France? Is there a King of France?"

"No," Zoe laughed, and the Doctor glanced back at them at the sound. "There was a revolution, but I'm mates with _a_ King of France. Louis XV, to be exact. Although I suppose I do know Louis XVI, his grandson, but more on the periphery than anything. We didn't actually spend a lot of time together, which I suppose is good because he was executed in the revolution: him and Marie Antoinette."

"I'm confused," he said, and he looked it. "How d'you know the King of France?"

"My wife and him used to be lovers," she explained as though it made perfect sense. "She was his Chief Mistress."

"What's that then?"

"Er – basically it's when the king has a relationship with a woman who's not his wife but he's not keeping it secret," Zoe said. "It's kind of semi-official. Comes with its own apartments and a stipend from the government."

"A prostitute?"

"Careful," she warned, voice sharp like the edge of a knife. "That's my wife you're talking about."

Mickey reddened. "Sorry, I didn't mean –"

"It's all right," she said easily. "It took a while for me to get my head around too. Anyway, I know Louis through her. He's a good friend. He actually married the two of us."

"That's so –" Rose frowned, trying to find the right word.

"French," Zoe supplied helpfully. "It's so French."

"All of this is so French," Jackie said, having listened closely to her daughter's words and not at all reassured by what she had heard.

She was sure that Reinette had been a lovely woman and Jackie was hardly one to judge on how someone lived their lives, but it was so far out of her understanding that she hesitated over being comfortable with it.

"Why couldn't the two of you have met a normal bloke?" She grumbled. Rose and Zoe glanced at each other and grinned. "Instead, you've got aliens an' time travel an' wives who were sleepin' with kings. You know how mad it sounds, right?"

"Maybe a little," Rose agreed even as a grew across her face. "But it's so much fun. C'mon, Mum. You've seen a little bit of it. It's not that bad."

"There's more talkin' than I expected," she admitted. "An' waitin' around."

"God, sometimes he doesn't shut up," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "Zo, remember that planet where we had to hop on one foot?"

"Oh my god, yes!" She laughed, eyes bright. "And the natives thought we were all married." She looked to Jackie and Mickey drawing them into the conversation. "I forget the name of the planet it's been so long, but it was just the three of us as we hadn't met Jack yet _and_ it was before Tolandra. We were happily hopping along when the natives came out and demanded to know our relationship with each other."

"An' the Doctor called us his _companions,_ " Rose said, pulling a face at the word. "An' then I said me an' Zo were sisters an' everythin' went sideways really quickly."

"Because the word companion translates to something really intimate in their language," Zoe continued, a laugh burbling in her throat. "And so they thought that the Doctor was _engaged_ with the two of us, which wouldn't have been as big of a problem if we weren't sisters."

"They're super religious too," Rose picked up the thread. "An' it's like this really bad thing to marry the sister or brother of your dead spouse because they think it's like incest. So the Doctor goin' around tellin' them that we were his companions was a really, really bad thing to do."

"We got pulled into a courtroom and the Doctor just talked for hours," Zoe said with pained exasperation at the memory of the uncomfortable courtroom with the stiff-backed chairs and the lack of water to sip on. "I mean he didn't shut up. He just kept going and going but it was working."

"Until –" Rose's eyes crinkled with laughter.,"– he turned to Zoe an' gave her a wink."

Zoe laughed, her free hand pressed against her side. "And all those hours we'd spent there were wasted because a wink in their culture is like the most sexually aggressive thing you can do to another person."

"An' there's hell up!" Rose told them, leaning into Mickey, who enjoyed her closeness, their fingers tangled together. "Oh my god, it's awful. The Doctor's yelpin' on, and Zoe's tryin' to make sense of things –"

"So Rose, being the only sensible one of us, picked up a chair and threw it through the window so we could escape."

"But because the gravity there is weird," she continued, "we had to hop to safety an' it's really hard to hop fast."

"I fell down that hill," Zoe remembered through her laughter. "And into that really gross puddle."

"You stank for days!"

Jackie stared at her two daughters who were tumbling over with laughter. "The two of are bonkers."

It only made them laugh harder as they finally reached the TARDIS, and the Doctor stuck his head out of the open door and swept his eyes over them – Rose and Zoe leaning on Mickey and Jackie respectively, tears dripping from their eyes as they laughed.

"What's so funny?" He asked, and Rose, unable to speak, hopped on one foot. "Ah, yes. Probeanja, strange planet."

"Probeanja?" Mickey repeated. "You havin' us on?"

"Why would I do that?" He said, and Zoe wiped at her eyes. "If you've finished laughing, we could use you inside. We can't leave at the moment."

Rose dropped Mickey's hand and moved into the TARDIS, the rest of them filing in after her. Once again Jackie tensed at the strangeness of it all but Zoe's arm within hers helped to settle some of her fear.

"Why can't we leave?" Zoe asked, shutting the door behind her and Jackie and leaning closer to the Doctor. "Something wrong with the TARDIS?"

"I might not have refuelled her for a while," he confessed, glancing to Jackie who raised her eyebrows at him. "And she's refusing to move. We're going to have to wait until she's ready, but Jack's been able to shave some of the time down by linking the extrapolator to the console so we've got about twelve hours to kill."

"You have to put fuel in this thing?" Jackie asked, incredulous.

"Course I do," he said. "And she's not a thing, she's a she."

"Blokes an' their toys," she rolled her eyes, and Zoe snorted but covered her amusement with a small cough when the Doctor looked at her, betrayed.

"Sorry," she smiled. "But she has got a point. I've seen you yabbering away to her when you think no one's around."

"So do you."

"Yeah, but I don't stroke her."

"You stroke her?" Jackie said, looking disgusted.

"You know," the Doctor said loudly to cover his embarrassment, "that was really good earlier. You saved us a lot of trouble back there. Thank you."

Jackie blinked at him, and she held the same expression on her face that Zoe got when she was taken aback by something. It was unsettling to see it on Jackie's face.

"Not as daft as you think I am," she said, covering her surprise.

"I don't think you're daft," he said. "How could you be? You've raised Rose and Zoe and they're pretty remarkable."

Her eyes narrowed at him as she searched for the insult or the hidden meaning in his words but she couldn't find anything so she just nodded, uncomfortable. "They are."

Fortunately, Rose distracted them from the growing discomfort that settled between them.

"Has this ever happened before?" She asked, leaning against the console. "The police box actually havin' a prisoner inside of it?"

"You're not just police, though," Margaret said, coming into view behind the Time Rotor. "Since you're taking me to my death that makes you my executioners. Each and every one of you."

The mirth of moments before faded and the graveness of what was happening crept into the space between them.

"Well, you deserve it," Mickey said, breaking the silence but he didn't sound entirely sure.

"You're very quick to say so," she said, looking around at them all. "You're all very quick to soak your hands in my blood, which makes you better than me _how_ , exactly? Long night ahead. Let's see who can look me in the eye."

"Ignore her," Jack said into the uncomfortable silence that followed. Margaret's eyes snapped to him. "It's basic psychology. She's trying to humanise herself in our eyes so that we feel guilty about sending her to face punishment for her actions. It's a tool that victims use in order to gain sympathy from their would-be murderers. People are less likely to kill those that they know personal details about, except -" he casually shrugged out of his tan jacket, "– it doesn't really work the other way around. You're going back to Raxacoricofallapatorius even if I have to drag you there kicking and screaming. Is that understood?"

Margaret swallowed. "Perfectly."

Zoe stared at Jack, impressed, certain she was seeing the man he was when he was a Time Agent: dedicated to his work and proud to uphold the Time Agency's standards. She moved closer to the Doctor and lowered her voice. He inclined his head so that he could hear her better.

"Do you actually have a cell on this ship?"

His eyes flickered. "Er – no, but I suppose I could rejig the Zero Room."

"The what room?"

"It's where I go if I can after I regenerate," he explained quietly. "It's a very calming place and probably one of the more secure rooms on the TARDIS. Just keep an eye on Margaret whilst I'm gone." She nodded. "Five minutes. I'll be back in five minutes."

She gave him two thumbs up and watched him leave. When she turned back around to keep watch over Margaret she saw that Rose and Mickey were nowhere to be found. She frowned and Jack jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the door from his position on the floor checking on the extrapolator. She nodded and squeezed her mum's knee before standing in front of the scanner. She flicked it on with a lazy twitch of her fingers, and the screen popped into life. The two of them were talking outside, leaning against the railings. It was a sight she was long familiar with as they could often be found leaning together and talking or laughing. It was nice to see it again and part of her hoped that they could find their way back to each other but Zoe wasn't sure if there was something left between them as the year that Rose had been gone was hard on everyone but Mickey had borne the brunt of the anger and hatred that spewed out.

It was a deep regret that she hadn't done anything for him at the time. The shame of her inaction burned itself into her marrow.

She watched them speak for a few minutes more before they walked off together. She turned the scanner off as Jack emerged from underneath the console where he had been attaching the transport to the main computer.

"What's on?" He asked, popping up next to her.

She brushed his hair out of his eyes automatically and his dimples appeared.

"Nothing," Zoe said. "Mickey and Rose have gone off together."

"Oh," He said. "Ew."

"Says the man who was once attracted to a poodle."

"It was a very attractive poodle," he said, and she smiled at him.

"I gather it's not always like this...having to wait," Margaret said, interrupting their warm moment of friendship. "I bet you're always among the first to leave, Zoe. Never mind the consequences, off you go. You butchered my family and then ran for the stars, am I right? But not this time. At last you have consequences. How does it feel?"

"Don't talk to my daughter like that," Jackie ordered, voice a sharp whip crack whilst Zoe considered just how wrong Margaret was about her.

She knew all about the consequences of her actions: the ring on her finger and the weight of grief in her heart spoke true to that.

"Don't answer back," Jack warned her. "That's what she wants. If you engage her in conversation then she'll keep pressing at you."

"You think you know me," Zoe said, and Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Because you met me once when I was seventeen years old and scared out of my mind. But you have no idea of who I am now, of what I've done in the years since I last saw you. You were right, earlier, when you said I'd changed. I have changed. I've been imprisoned, tortured, and widowed since we last saw each other. I'm not the naive little girl I was when I met you. It would do you well to remember that."

Margaret stared at her.

"Do I get a last request?" She asked, finally.

Her immediate reaction was to say no but she stilled the impulse. "Depends on what it is."

"I've grown quite fond of my little human life," she admitted with a small, blasé shrug. "All those rituals: the brushing of the teeth, and the complicated way they cook things. There's a little restaurant just round the Bay. It became quite a favourite of mine."

"Is that what you want?" She asked. "A last meal?"

"Don't I have rights?" She replied, and the ethics of the situation warred in Zoe's stomach.

Jack scoffed. "Like she's not going to try to escape."

"Except I can never escape the Doctor, so where's the danger?" Margaret asked, and as though her words had summoned him, he appeared back in the console room. "I wonder if you could do it? To sit with a creature you're about to kill and take supper. How strong is your stomach?"

"Strong enough," Zoe said, faintly amused, though that was tinged by a feeling of uncertainty that slithered its way down her spine – were they doing the right thing? "But I'm also not an idiot. You can have your last meal but you can have it in your cell. I'll bring you a menu."

"You would deny me my last breath of freedom?"

"I would deny you the opportunity to hurt innocent people," she said. "And this conversation is now at an end. You can order from the restaurant or you can have nothing at all. The choice is yours."

Margaret looked unhappy with the compromise. "Very well. I'll have my usual. The restaurant will know what it is."

"In the meantime," she said, nodding to the Doctor. "He'll show you to your cell."

"If you'll follow me, Margaret," the Doctor said as though she had a choice in the matter, and Margaret looked at the four of them, finding no ground to push her case.

"Do you always take orders from her?" She asked, voice insidiously curious. "A god taking orders from a mortal?"

"She's my friend," the Doctor said simply. "And we're often in agreement on such matters. Now, move it."

They watched him escort Margaret out of the console room, and, once she was gone Jackie slumped back in the jump seat with a heavy sigh and a frown creased across her forehead.

Life in the TARDIS wasn't what she had been expecting.


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter Forty-Five**

"This is the place she wants her last meal on Earth from?" Zoe asked sceptically as she stepped in out of the cold and looked around, her nose wrinkled finely at the faux-wood tables with cheap material draped across them.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "You're such a snob."

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are," he laughed, letting the door drop from his fingers once Jackie was inside as well. She seemed to be serious about not letting Zoe out of her sight for even a moment. "Remember that place we went to on Saraw? You were full of complaints."

"There was literally an open horse carcass on the table."

He pointed at her. "Snob."

She rolled her eyes and shrugged out of her coat. "Maybe you need to take me to better restaurants."

"Yes, dear," he said automatically, and his eyes darted to Jackie who was watching him closely. His ears started to burn. He cleared his throat. "Why don't you two have a drink? I'll order the food and come join you in a bit."

"Sure," Zoe said absently.

She took her mother's arm and led her over to the bar where she began perusing the wine list. Jackie glanced back over her shoulder at the Doctor to find him studiously not looking at her daughter.

Suspicion tickled the inside of her chest.

"Wine, Mum?" Her daughter asked, and Jackie looked around, forgetting the thoughts that pricked at the back of her mind for a moment. "Or a rum and coke?"

"Rum an' coke, ta," she said, taking a seat at the bar. It was a much nicer restaurant than she normally went to. It reminded her of the one Pete had taken her to on their second date – their first date being fish and chips in his car with cans of beer in the cup holders between them. Zoe handed over a twenty pound note and a thought struck Jackie. "Whose money is that?"

"Huh?" She replied. "Oh. The Doctor's, I think. I don't really know. He has a bit of an odd relationship with money in the fact that he claims he doesn't quite grasp the concept. I don't think they had money on Gallifrey."

"Where does he get it from then?" She asked. "Does he have a job?"

"God, could you imagine?" Zoe looked horrified at the thought. "He'd get fired on the first day for being a pain in the ass."

"Who's a pain in the ass?" The Doctor asked, appearing behind them without warning, and Jackie jumped but Zoe just slid smoothly around and tilted her face up to look at him.

"You."

He looked offended. "Me?"

"We're trying to imagine you holding down a normal job," she explained, and his face dropped into lines of displeasure.

"I'd die of boredom," he agreed. "Although, working for UNIT wasn't half bad, but I did my own thing there. Do you think I got paid?"

"I should hope so," she said. "Weren't you working there for a few years?"

"A few," he said as their drinks came; he pointed at a lager. "This for me?"

"Yeah." She picked up her wine glass and tapped it against her mother's and then the Doctor's. "Santé."

"At least you haven't lost your French," Jackie noted, sipping her drink and trying to ignore the presence of the Doctor but he was a difficult man to ignore as he just seemed to loom over everything. "I remember you were worried about that."

"I speak excellent French now," Zoe said, grimacing at the taste of the wine. "One of the virtues of marrying a French woman, I suppose. Although it's 18th century French, not, y'know, modern day French."

"Is there a difference?"

"Not really," she said, taking another sip of wine. "Oh, god, this wine is awful."

"You were spoilt by the wine in Versailles," the Doctor told her, leaning against the bar and letting his eyes drift over the empty space searching for anything alien, but there were just normal humans enjoying their normal dinner in a normal restaurant.

 _Disappointing._

"I should have taken some with me," she sighed, missing the rich taste of Louis's wine cellar. "A shame."

"You drink now?" Jackie asked, and Zoe suddenly felt awkward, like the child she wasn't.

The Doctor snorted. "Trying to get her to stop is the problem."

"Hey!" She protested. "I'm not that bad."

"You haven't met a bottle of wine you can't finish," he reminded her, and she scowled at him.

"As long as you don't get your stomach pumped again," Jackie said with a frown. The Doctor was surprised when Zoe#s cheeks flared with colour and her shoulders hunched over, turning her in on herself.

"I'm sorry, what?" He blinked, looking to Jackie.

"This one –" she jerked her thumb at her daughter, "– got herself so drunk one night when she was sixteen that she had to have her stomach pumped out at the hospital. I damn near killed her for it."

"I think my ears are still ringing from the dressing down you gave me," Zoe muttered, and she seemed to be trying to crawl inside her skin so that she could disappear but it wasn't working. "And, in my defence, it was a one-off. I thought –"

She trailed off and glanced to her mother whose expression darkened.

"You thought?" The Doctor prompted.

"It was about four months after Rose just upped and vanished," Zoe said, reluctance coating her tone. "The police had just told us that they weren't closing the investigation but they were drawing back on it because there were no leads. We all thought that meant that she was dead somewhere, and I didn't know how to handle that, so I went out and got so drunk I gave myself alcohol poisoning."

"If only someone had brought her back on time," Jackie said pointedly, and he looked down into the rising bubbles of his lager, shame creeping into him.

He wasn't a stranger to shame but he hadn't given Rose's twelve-month absence a lot of thought beyond her initial return and Zoe's occasional jabs at him, though those had trailed off over the time he had known her. It was easy for him to forget about the people that his friends left behind as Jackie and Mickey were very much on the periphery of his life. He made an effort with them because it pleased Zoe and Rose but he didn't think much on them unless a situation forced him to.

He risked a glance at Jackie and was suddenly assaulted by a memory he had half forgotten: his own daughter disappearing for a time. She had fancied herself in love with a member of the Asgardian delegation and had run away with him. She eventually returned home with tears in her eyes and two broken hearts in her chest but those months of not knowing where she was or what had happened to her were some of the worst of his life. He still didn't understand why she had run away. If she had just spoken to him about it, he could have figured something out but instead she had visited grief and worry upon him only a few short years after his wife's death.

He would never know now, and he didn't like how that sat with him.

Zoe's voice was low with warning. "Mum."

Jackie ignored it. "Does he even care?"

"Of course he cares," she replied. "It was just a mistake."

"Same as you?"

"No, I made the decision to strand myself," Zoe corrected, her words gaining a slight edge as she spoke. "He's not responsible for everything, and he's sure as hell not responsible for me. I make my own decisions."

The Doctor cleared his throat lightly, eyes darting around. They weren't attracting attention yet but he knew how loud Tyler women could be when they were riled up. "Perhaps we should –"

"Stay out of this." they both snapped at him. He eased back a little, catching the bartender's eye who gave him a sympathetic look.

"You seem to think that I'm some weak-willed thing with nothing between my ears but stardust," Zoe said heatedly, uncertain of where her anger was coming from but it burned through her. "But I'm not. I don't always agree with the Doctor, and I don't always go along with what he says because I have my own mind. By placing all the blame on him, you're taking away my autonomy and that's not fair, Mum."

"You would never have been in this position if he hadn't come blunderin' into our lives!"

"No, and Rose would be dead!" She snapped, and Jackie flinched. Two diners looked up and around at the sound of the argument. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her anger. "If he hadn't been there that day at Henrik's, Rose would have died in that basement. He saved her life, Mum." She reached out and covered Jackie's hand with her own. "And I like my life now. I like the things I do and see. I like him. He's a good friend."

"An' that's all he is?" Jackie asked, and Zoe's nostrils flared whilst the Doctor hunched over his beer, embarrassed at being so transparent.

"I buried my wife just over a year ago," she said, emotion thick in her voice. "I'm not even thinking about anything, _anyone_ , else. It's insulting to my wife, but it's also insulting to my friendship with the Doctor. There is _nothing_ between us, Mum."

"Does he know that?"

Zoe pushed away from the bar, a flurry of angry movement. "I'm going back to the TARDIS. I won't have this conversation again."

"Zoe –" the Doctor tried, but she turned from him, swinging her coat onto her body. She left the restaurant with sharp, furious strides.

A heavy silence pressed between him and Jackie.

He cleared his throat, not accustomed to having to make nice with someone's mother. "Would an apology help?"

Her eyes sliced towards him. "Can you give me those years back?"

He hesitated. "No."

"Then no," she said viciously. "It wouldn't."

"Okay then," he nodded, rubbing his thumb on the condensation of his glass. He wanted to clear his throat again but was worried that the smallest misstep would make her attack him again, and his face throbbed with the echo of pain. "I know a little of what you're feeling right now."

"Do you?" She replied, voice dripping with sarcasm; she was like Zoe on the worst days after Reinette had died: bitter, cutting, sarcastic, cruel.

"I had children," he said, the admission pulling painfully against him. She stilled. "A long time ago. I know what it's like to feel you can't protect them. To worry about them constantly. And how difficult it is to let them find their own feet."

Jackie's jaw worked, fingers twitching around her glass. "Did anyone steal your children away?"

He closed his eyes briefly, a temporary shield against her angry accusations. "I didn't steal them. They came with me because they wanted to."

"You offered them the universe," she hissed, the lines around her eyes tight. "How could anyone say no to that?"

"Zoe did," he said. "At first. I asked her after Downing Street exploded, and she said no. She wanted to finish her exams and go to university. She still does, by the way; she still wants that."

"An' you're goin' to let her?"

He took his life into his hands and laughed. "I don't let Zoe do anything. She just does it. She's very stubborn and headstrong and incredibly reckless half the time, but she's also brave and kind like her sister. This is always who they were, Jackie. I haven't changed them. They're still your daughters."

"Are they?" She asked, a flash of vulnerability making him ache for her. For as much as Jackie annoyed him, there was no denying she loved her daughters fiercely. "Because my daughter is now seven years older than she was when I last saw her. She's been tortured by aliens an' married to a French princess. An' this happened on your watch."

The Doctor stared at her. "Tolandra was a mistake."

"You make a lot of them by the sounds of it."

He flinched.

"She should have been safe," he told her seriously. He hadn't forgiven himself for the mess of Tolandra. He wasn't sure he ever would. "She looks Tolandran. She should've been safe but she wasn't, and I hate that. I hate that I wasn't able to protect her but Rose did. Rose saved her, and she saved me because that's the kind of daughter you've raised Jackie. Brave, brilliant women who aren't afraid of doing things even when they're terrified."

"An' where does that lead them, eh?" She pressed. "When are you goin' come back in your TARDIS with one of my girls' dead in your arms?"

The thought of Rose or Zoe or Jack dying filled the Doctor with terror. He drained his beer, setting it down heavily.

"That won't happen," he whispered harshly. "I won't let it happen."

"You can't make that promise," Jackie told him. She wiped away the tears on her cheeks, hating herself for crying in front of him. "You take them out there into the stars an' put them in all sorts of situations. You can't promise me that you'll bring them home safe because look at how well you've protected Zoe."

"Jackie..."

He needed a moment to breathe – a moment to find his footing again. Jackie kept pushing and pushing, as was her right, but the weight of what she was dragging out of the corner of his mind he put things he didn't like to remember was threatening to crush him.

She stared at him, eyes sparking. "Don't even think about goin' after her."

"What?"

"I've seen the way you look at her," she said. His blood ran cold. "The way you touch her. I know what that means. She's not for you."

The Doctor thought about lying and blustering his way to relative safety but Jackie deserved better than that. She deserved the truth even if it was something she didn't want to hear.

"That's for her to decide, not you."

"What sort of life can you give her?" Jackie asked him. "A home? Children? Someone to come home to at the end of the day? Or will you just leave her behind whilst you go off travellin' an' come back only when you remember her so she has to wait for you?"

"That's not –" he started.

It hurt that she was able to peel back the shadows covering his fears so sharply.

"She deserves better than you," Jackie said simply. He knew she didn't say it turn be hurtful or cutting, she simply meant it honestly but it sliced through the Doctor anyway and left him wounded. "Leave her be, Doctor. Let her fall in love with someone else. Let her have that life."

He didn't watch as Jackie left the restaurant. He just sat there with his empty beer glass and he reached for Zoe's unfinished wine. He pressed his face into his free hand and curled his fingers against his forehead, his hearts hurting.

"Fuck."

* * *

Jack looked up from the omnibus episode of Coronation Street he was watching when Zoe entered the TARDIS in a tight ball of rage. He leaned around the TV screen, feet propped up on the console, and raised his eyebrows at her. She drew up short at the sight of him and opened her mouth. Anticipating her question, he simply pointed at a second screen where Margaret was shown to be sitting on the floor of the Zero Room, scowling at the wall opposite her with the zip on her forehead open to let some of the pressure out. Zoe wondered why she simply didn't take the flesh suit off as it must have been deeply uncomfortable to be under so much compression.

"Has she done anything?"

"Just sat there," Jack said. "It's been kind of boring."

"Hence Corrie," she said with a fond roll of her eyes, her anger dripping from her in his calm presence. "Of all the TV series and films we have on Earth in this time, you watch soap operas."

"They're a brilliant way to study a culture," he told her, and she slid her eyes towards him. He grinned. "And I like the drama."

"Of course you do," she smiled, taking off her coat and draping it over a strut before joining him on the jump seat, her feet settling next to his on the console. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he lowered his cheek to the top of her head.

"What's wrong?"

"Just had an argument with mum," she said, feeling tired and guilty. "I left her and the Doctor at the restaurant."

"Wonder which one of them makes it back," Jack said, and she huffed a laugh.

"That's not funny," she said, pinching his thigh, and he freed his arm so he could put it around her shoulders.

She curled into his warmth and he relished it. She hadn't been much of a toucher when they had met only a few months ago but her time away had stripped back some of her defences and made her more open to her friendship with Jack.

"Want to talk about it?" He offered, but she shook her head.

"Not really," she sighed. "What do you think of this whole thing with Margaret?"

"You mean taking her back to Raxacoricofallapatorius for the death penalty?" He said, and she nodded. "I'm not thrilled but I'm also not torn up about it. It's not the first time I've had to return people to planets and times where the death penalty is what they'll face."

She looked up at him. "Really?"

He kept his eyes on the the screen. "Part of the job."

"Do you have the death penalty in the 51st century?"

He shook his head. "No. We have more effective punishments. It's rehabilitation mainly, but for those that commit the worst crimes and don't show that they're capable of change then we erase their memories."

She blinked. "You what?"

"We wipe everything." he said. "And let them start over."

She sat up. "But isn't that like killing someone? You're taking everything they were and just scraping it out of their minds. Their bodies might still be there but the people that they are, that's gone."

"It's very rarely used as a punishment," Jack told her. She had freckles on her nose and across her cheekbones; he hadn't noticed that before. "I think it's only been used once in my lifetime, and I was a child then. It's something the government takes seriously. There are all kinds of checks and balances in place to make sure that there is no other option."

"Still..."

"Don't you guys have the death penalty here, in this time?"

"Yeah, I mean, not in Britain, but other places," she said. "America, although not all of America: Texas and a few other states, I think. But it's not the same. Your method seems to be saying _we're not killing them, not really._ It's like you're trying to be kind but reaching the same end as here."

"I didn't say it was a good idea," he pointed out, and some of the righteous indignation that had built in her drained away.

She gave him a lopsided grin. "Sorry. Sometimes I get worked up about things. I don't mean to come across as preachy."

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "I don't mind."

"So where do you stand on the death penalty then?" She asked him, leaning back into him and tracing the faint pattern on his trousers; she thought they were cats but there was every chance, since it was Jack, that they were discreet penises. "For? Against? Ambivalent?"

"Ambivalent more than anything," Jack said. "I know I should care, and I suppose in theory I do. I've just...I don't know if it's the education that was drummed into me at the Academy where we were taught to respect other cultures and legal systems even if we don't agree with them but I just - I don't really care. If you commit a crime, you should be punished. Depending on the severity of the crime, the punishment should fit the action."

She hummed thoughtfully.

"What about you?" He asked as the omnibus slid smoothly into the next episode.

"I've always been against it," Zoe said after a moment's thought. "In theory, that is. It's not exactly a hot button issue in Britain since we don't have it, but I oppose it because I think that governments shouldn't have the ability to kill their citizens. And I've always thought that rehabilitation was better than simple imprisonment. Having to face it now...maybe my beliefs are just that: _beliefs_. When put into practice, I'm finding that it's more complicated than I thought."

"She did try to destroy the Earth twice," he reminded her.

"And I'm sure she'll try again on another planet if we let her go," Zoe frowned. "I don't see any form of remorse from her. I don't think she understands why what she did is wrong. There's a - a superiority to her that I think precludes the possibility of rehabilitation. Although, maybe I'm just being biased because it was my planet she tried to destroy. I don't like to say she could never redeem herself but...where do we draw the line? We make decisions that decide the fate of planets and time periods because we know it's right and because the Doctor can see the time lines and know if something's out of place...but this? Do we have the right to make _this_ decision?"

Jack angled his head back and considered her words before answering. "Are we making this decision? We're simply returning her to the jurisdiction that has authority over her after all"

"Unlike you to ignore the obvious," she said with a faint hint of amusement. He raised his eyebrows. "It's not simple because of the punishment involved. We wouldn't be having this conversation if the punishment for her crime was life imprisonment. We'd just take her back and forget about it."

"What else can we do with her?" He asked, catching a stray curl from her head and winding it back into her braid. "We can't turn her free as people would die. We can't take her somewhere else, no one would claim responsibility for her. Could we keep her in the TARDIS and rehabilitate her ourselves? Would the Doctor even agree to that? And would we want to take on that responsibility?"

There was a long silence as Zoe thought about what he had said. There was no easy solution to the situation at hand and she didn't like that. She liked easy and clean resolutions but that wasn't how life worked. She knew that, and it wasn't as though she hadn't seen executions before. There was a time in France when Louis ordered the execution of a traitor to the Crown and, curious, Zoe went along to see what would happen. She wished she hadn't as all she could dream about for months after was the dull thud of a severed head hitting the ground and how the blood spurted from the open neck like someone was squeezing a pump. It was the way it poured out that lingered with her, and she pressed herself closer into Jack's reassuring warmth.

She hadn't been able to eat properly for days after that.

"I suppose she made her choice," Zoe said at last. "But she's right. Her blood will still stain our hands."

"Only if we let it," Jack said. He reached out and took hold of her hand; her fingers were settled on the pattern of ducks on the trousers he found in the wardrobe. She let their fingers twine together, and his hand dwarfed hers, making her feel small and fragile. "By allowing her blood to stain our hands, we allow her to surrender the responsibility of her actions. She made her decisions in the full understanding that this might be where she ends up. She made that decision, just as you made yours when you broke the time connection aboard your wife's ship. You knew there would be consequences, and you lived through them. She has to do the same, regardless of what those consequences are."

"I know," she said softly, looking at his knuckles. "I know. It doesn't make it any easier though."

"No," he agreed, eyes tender. "It doesn't."

He held her warmly against his side, and they watched Coronation Street together. She felt better in his company and after their conversation. The anger from before had left her but the guilt remained, licking at her insides when she thought on her words. Jack's warmth and pleasing smell made her eyes feel heavy as time slipped by, and she was dropping off to sleep when there was a knock on the door. Jack untangled himself from her, and she groaned a little at losing her warm pillow, which made him chuckle as he jogged down to open it.

"Hello, Jackie," Jack said cheerfully. "Sorry. Didn't mean to lock you out."

Zoe straightened up and watched as her mother entered the console room. Jack glanced out of the open door but the Doctor was nowhere to be seen so he shut the door again. "No Doctor?"

"He's still at the restaurant," Jackie said, forehead lined with a frown. "Zoe, where's your room? I want to lie down for a bit."

"Sure," Zoe said, sliding from the jump seat. "Follow me."

She glanced over her shoulder on the way out of the console room, and Jack gave her a reassuring thumbs up that made her smile.

* * *

Rose and Mickey walked away from the TARDIS and stepped off the Roald Dahl Plass. It was quiet away from the hum of the ship and the back and forth conversation that had swollen around them. She could hear cars on the road and the general thrum of life. She knew she was home, back on Earth, because of how it sounded. Life was different on every planet but there was something special and unique about Earth that she could recognise instantly. The sound of it, the smell, the feel of the ground beneath her feet were all so familiar to her that she knew she was home. She felt relaxed and at peace even as an awkward tension grew between her and Mickey.

Once, not very long ago, they had been able to talk about anything. She remembered lying curled in his bed, her body slick with perspiration and her heart racing in her chest from their love-making, and whispering the things that Jimmy Stone had done to her. She had never told Jackie or Zoe the full truth of what Jimmy had done but Mickey knew everything. She remembered how safe she felt in his arms, his body slightly soft but comfortable and perfect, and how he pressed his mouth to her forehead. She felt safe for the first time in a long time in his arms and had pressed her face into his neck and listened to his whispered promises that he would never hurt her.

And he never had.

She wasn't sure she could say the same though.

"So Zoe's married now?" Mickey asked, the tension shattering like glass between them as he latched onto a subject that was safe territory for both of them.

Zoe might be Rose's sister by blood but she was Mickey's sister by choice.

"Yeah, weird right?" Rose replied, eyes widening. "An' she's twenty-four now. She's older than both of us."

"She looks it," he said before realising how that sounded. "I mean, she doesn't look bad, but she just looks old – _older!_ She looks older. She looks good. I mean –"

Rose laughed, glancing at him in amusement, and he gave her a bashful grin. "I know what you mean. She does look good. Plus, her fashion taste is better now. I had a nose through her wardrobe this morning an' she's got some really nice stuff."

Mickey smiled, but the space between them soon became tense again as there was only so much to say about Zoe without her actually there with them. Rose looked away from him and out over the bay, the sea dappled with the orange light of the street lamps.

"So..." he tried again. "Been anywhere cool?"

Relief flooded through her, and she grinned at him. She launched into a story about a planet called Woman Wept that the Doctor had taken them to just before they stopped on Nibiru for TARDIS repairs. Mickey listened to her. He enjoyed the way her voice rose and fell with her excitement and passion for her travel but such obvious delight niggled at him. It twisted the parts of himself that he didn't like and brought them closer to the surface: jealousy, bitterness, resentment. She leaned back against the cold metal bars that stopped careless pedestrians from falling into the sea. Artificial light fell across her face, and his body filled with heat at the sight of her. When she was gone it was easier to forget how she made him feel as every time he was around her he felt as though nothing else mattered.

"Midnight, right," she told him, eyes bright. "An' we walk underneath these waves that are like a hundred feet tall, made of ice, an' –"

"I'm goin' out with Trisha Delaney."

Rose stared at him, mouth frozen around the word that she hadn't yet spoken; Mickey stared back, surprised. He hadn't expected to say that.

"Right," she said, face twitching slightly as she processed the information. Inside of her, the warmth that had blossomed in his presence turned to ice, and she wanted to rub at her chest but she couldn't move her limbs. "That's nice." She frowned. "Trisha from the shop?"

"Yeah," he nodded awkwardly. "Rob Delaney's sister."

"Well, she's nice," she decided before spite made her speak again. "She's a bit big."

She regretted the words instantly. She was better than that, and it wasn't Trisha's fault that she felt the way she did.

"She's lost weight," he said, eyes bouncing off her and settling on the sea. "You've been away."

Hurt pinged through Rose. She swallowed her anger back down and let it sink into her stomach where it pressed heavily against her, and she lied. "Well, good for you. She's nice."

Mickey bobbed his head, hands thrust deep into his pockets. "So, tell us more about this planet then."

"That was it, really."

"Oh," he said, dragging the toe of his shoe across the smooth tarmac. "So, what do you want to do now?"

She shrugged, feeling a little light-headed. "Don't mind."

"We could ask about hotels," he suggested, risking a glance at her, and his heart clenched with hope.

 _Please, please, please._

"What would Trisha Delaney say?" Rose asked, a bite to her voice, and his hopes disappeared in a breath of smoke, leaving his mouth coated with a thin sheet of watery bile that he wanted to spit out.

"Suppose," he said, fingers curled into fists in his pockets to stop them shaking. "There's a bar down there with a Spanish name or some –"

"You don't even like Trisha Delaney!" She exclaimed, interrupting him. Relief popped in Mickey that they could finally talk about the thing between them, that they could fight it out and he wouldn't be in limbo any more.

"Oh, is that right?" He asked hotly, blood rushing to his face. "What the hell do you know?"

"I know you," she said pointedly. "An' I know her. An' I know that's never going to happen. So who do you think you're kiddin'?"

"At least I know where she is!"

"There we are, then!" She said, spreading her arms wide and pointing at him. "It's got nothin' to do with Trisha. This is all about me, isn't it?"

"You left me!" He yelled, voice cracking, and she flinched back, surprised. Mickey didn't yell. It was one of the things that had attracted her to him in the first place. He was kind and calm and easy going, and he was quicker to laughter than he was to anger. He stared at her, his face a picture of perfectly painted pain and his eyes shone with grief. "We were nice, we were happy, an' then what? You give me a kiss an' you run off with _him._ You made me feel like nothing, Rose. I was nothing, an' you did that to me."

"Mickey..." she breathed, but she couldn't speak because there are tears in her eyes and guilt and hurt in her throat.

"I can't even go out with a stupid girl from a shop because you pick up the phone an' I come running," he told her, wiping at his face. "I mean, is that what I am, Rose? A standby? Am I just supposed to sit here for the rest of my life, waiting for you? Because I will. If you tell me to wait, I'll do it but you need to let me know. I can't keep doing this –" he gestured between them. "Because this is killing me."

She sniffed, the sound wet and horrible. "I'm sorry. Mickey, I'm sorry."

"Are you?" He asked her, swallowing hard. "Do you even think about me when you're out there with the Doctor and stupid Captain Cheesecake?"

She laughed a little at his childish insult. "There's nothing between me an' Jack. He's a friend. That's all. He's a friend."

"Does he know that?"

"Jack's from the 51st century," she said. "Things are different there, but he respects the fact that I'm not interested in him."

"Then who are you interested in, Rose?" He asked. "Is it me? Are we still –? Is there somethin' still between us? Because I still love you. After everything, I still love you."

Rose breathed out heavily, and she wiped at her face with the ends of her scarf. "I don't know, Micks. That's the truth. I just don't know."

He closed his eyes and nodded.

"But – er – why don't we go for that drink, yeah?" She suggested hesitantly, uncertain and wrongfooted. "An' we can – we can talk, okay? Properly talk."

Mickey opened his eyes again and looked at her. It wasn't what he wanted but it was better than he had thought he would get. He nodded at her.

"Okay. Yeah. Let's do that."

She smiled tentatively at him and reached for his hand. Part of him wanted to pull away but another part, the stronger part that just wanted things to go back to normal, wanted to pretend for a minute. He took her hand and looked down at them joined together, having missed the feel of her hand within his. He gave her fingers a slight squeeze, and she rubbed her thumb over his skin.

"So where's this Spanish place then?" She asked him, and he managed a smile.

"This way."

* * *

After dinner, from which Jackie was noticeably absent, Jack made himself scarce by going for a drink at one of the nearby bars. Since it would take all night to fuel the TARDIS, he thought that he might as well go and seek out company; Zoe waved him off with a tired smile and a handful of local money that she found beneath the console. With a nearly-empty TARDIS, she went off in search of a new book to read and the Doctor walked down the hall to the Zero Room where Margaret was sat sulking on the floor.

He had told her she could remove her skin suit if she wanted to but she remained compressed into it; she zipped her forehead back up when the door started to open. He wondered at her reasons for staying within it. Perhaps, he thought as he nudged open the door with his hip, she thought a human face might make them more sympathetic to her cause. It wasn't as though she was wrong. People tended to empathise with those that they found familiar. It was easier to feel sorry for something that looked like them that it was to feel sorry for something obviously alien.

Margaret looked up when he entered, and her eyes darted behind him with the slightest edge of apprehension tightening the lines around her eyes and mouth. He smirked at that. She would hate to think she was scary but, since France, there was a sharper edge to Zoe that hadn't been there before; it seemed to make her intimidating to others, or at least to Margaret. Her words came sharper and quicker, more refined than before – tricks learnt in the heart of politics no doubt. She sometimes reminded him of Romana with the way she phrased certain sentiments, and Romana had been an adept politician.

"Zoe's in the library."

"Doesn't want to face what she's doing to me?" Margaret asked.

"She wants to read more than she wants to talk with you," the Doctor said, setting the plate of food down on the floor. "Enjoy your meal."

"You haven't even asked me my proper name," she said to his back when he made to leave the room. "Surely you must realise that Margaret Blaine isn't my true name, _Doctor_."

He knew he shouldn't engage with her but he did so anyway like the masochist he was. After all, he had spent his whole life making one bad decision after another, so one more didn't matter. He turned to face her. "What's your name then?"

"Blon. I am Blon Fel Fotch Passameer-Day Slitheen," she said with an edge of pride in her voice before it turned cold. "That's what it'll say on my death certificate."

He gave her a little mocking bow. "Nice to meet you, Blon."

"I'm sure," she said dryly, resting her head back against the wall, eyes on him. "Tell me something, Doctor. I've read the files that UNIT and Torchwood keep on you -"

"Torchwood?" He interrupted. There was a name he hadn't heard before. He rolled it over in his mind as he looked for references before he shook his head. It wasn't the time or the place to become distracted. "Never mind. I'll get to it eventually. Those files are classified."

"I'm a politician," Margaret said simply. "There are many ways to access information if one simply knows where to look. And, my word, what information I found about you. A man who can change his face as easily as I wear someone else's skin. What a magnificent creature you are."

"Do you have a point, Blon?" He asked, arms folded across his chest.

"I also saw names and names of those that had travelled with you over the years," she said. "All those bright and shining young women...they must have looked at you as though you hung the stars themselves. Whatever happened to them?"

"You know full well what happened to them," the Doctor said as anger churned in his chest. "They left."

"You're quite a collector of the young and beautiful," she noted. "I wonder...when will you leave Zoe behind?"

His body stilled. "Excuse me?"

"I see the way you look at her," Margaret said, sliding beneath his skin and burying herself deep into the secret he thought was well-guarded but after Jackie and now Margaret he wondered if everyone in the universe but Zoe knew how he felt about her. "It's a wonder your idiot friends don't see it. You're in love with her. An ageless god in love with a mortal. It might be funny if it wasn't so sad."

"What do you know of love?" The Doctor asked her, voice plunging into sharpness.

"More than you'd think," she said slowly, holding his gaze. "Does she know? How you feel about her?"

The Doctor pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth. "No."

"Do you think she'll be able to forgive you for what you're going to do to me?" Margaret asked, and, like a bulb blowing out, the tension that had been building in his chest released. She had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. She had started well with her astute observation of his feelings for Zoe but the intricacies and complexities of their relationship were so far out of her understanding that she fell far short of her intended target. "Do you think she'll be able to forgive herself?"

He bent his knees so that he was crouching in front of her.

"Blon - I killed my people," he said calmly, letting every word fall carefully out of his mouth so that she understood each and every one of them. "Every single one of them: men, women, and children. They all died by my hand, burning in the fire I set. They turned to ash as my planet turned to ash."

Her borrowed skin paled, and her eyes flicked between his.

"And when I told Zoe this, as I have told her everything else, do you know what she did? This mortal human who knew nothing of gods and demons. Do you want to know what she did?" The Doctor asked softly; Margaret held her breath. "She forgave me – completely and unconditionally. She _forgave_ me. Zoe Tyler is the best that this planet has to offer. And I know that she'll forgive me for this, just as I'll forgive her for whatever sins she thinks she's going to commit today."

He held his position and her eyes for a heartbeat longer before he stood up. He stood above her – a tall, terrifying god. "You'd best eat your meal. It's getting cold."

With that, he left Margaret shaken on the floor.

* * *

Some hours later, after spending time calming himself down by tinkering with his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor unearthed a bottle of wine that even Zoe couldn't find fault with. He blew the dust off of the dark bottle and used his sleeve to clean it up before he uncorked it to let it breathe. He took two glasses from the cupboards and went off in search of her, eager for some company after what felt like a long day. He found her sitting outside on a bench by the railings. She was wrapped up in her coat to protect her against the cold night's air – one leg crossed over the other, and a book open and resting against her knee. He lingered briefly by the door of the TARDIS, enjoying the sight of her, before he walked forwards. She looked lazily around at his footsteps, and he held up the bottle of wine. She grinned at him, pleased.

"This is the good stuff, I promise," the Doctor said, coming to join her on the bench. "Italian, not French, but a gift from Casanova. I say gift, I actually won it in a poker game."

"Low stakes," she smiled, setting her book to one side so as to take the glasses from his hands.

"I also owe him a couple of chickens."

He poured the dark red liquid into the glasses, and she looked up at him, amused.

"Chickens?"

"Chickens," he nodded, and she laughed at that.

She gave the wine a sniff. "Italian's almost as good as French, so thank you." She raised her glass. "Santé."

"Santé ." He clinked his glass with hers. "What are you reading?"

"Oh." She looked at the cover. "You know? I'm not actually sure."

He plucked the book from between them and examined the cover and the blurb. It was a history of the Denubian language. Not something he thought she would be interested in, and he told her so.

"I like languages," Zoe said. "Maybe not this language but languages in general. I thought about studying Modern Languages at university before I settled on history. Figured I could pick up another one on the way."

"Well, your French is excellent," he agreed, setting the book between them. "You could still study languages. There's a brilliant university on Xerxa that specialises in language teaching. I could take you to look around the campus at some point, if you'd like."

"Alien university." She raised her eyebrows, amused. "And how do I convert that to an Earth qualification?"

"It's actually easy, all you need to do is – oh, you're teasing me."

She laughed. "You catch on quicker than you used to."

"Must be long-term exposure."

"Sounds nasty," she smiled. "You might want to see a doctor about that."

"Know any good ones?"

"Not really."

"Oi!"

She leaned into him with a laugh, and he enjoyed the easy camaraderie between them. No matter what Jackie said or Margaret believed, he couldn't find it within himself to think that him and Zoe together would be anything less that wonderful. Jackie's sharp words stilled his tongue though. Any confession he wanted to make remained inside him because she was still mourning and, as she had said, she wasn't even thinking about any of that.

"Sorry for earlier," Zoe apologised. "Didn't mean to have you in the middle of me and Mum arguing."

"It's fine," he said. "I've seen you and Rose go at it enough to know when to get involved and when not to."

She rolled her eyes. "We don't fight that much."

"Not seriously anyway," he said. There had been a moment of uncertainty, right at the beginning when he wondered if travelling with two sisters was a good idea but Rose and Zoe's relationship was one of the joys of being around them. "Where's Jackie anyway?"

"Sleeping in my room," she said. "She's tired. So am I for that matter."

"Want to borrow my bed?"

"What an offer," she teased, and his embarrassment spread from his ears to his cheeks. "But I'm okay, thanks. I just want to sit here and enjoy the night."

"Mind some company?"

"Not as long as it's yours," she said, pulling a smile from him as he placed his arm around her shoulders and sat there.

There was no denying it to himself any longer. He had to accept the truth of his feelings if he had any hope of functioning normally. He was in love with Zoe. He had been for a while now and it was obviously clear to others what his feelings were if both Jackie and Margaret noticed. He wondered if Rose and Jack knew but he couldn't be sure. Jack wouldn't say anything because of Zoe and her preference for privacy, but he was sure he would definitely have heard something from Rose if she knew. Her protectiveness of her sister was both endearing and slightly frightening. He was certain he would have had some version of the conversation he had had with Jackie with Rose if she knew; although, he imagined it would be much more civilised and significantly less hurtful.

He wasn't sure what to do with his feelings.

Aside from his wife, Romana was the only other woman he had loved but that was easier because she was a Time Lady and he had known that her feelings mirrored his. They hadn't had to have a grand declaration as they just knew: low-level telepathy was sometimes a wonderful thing. He missed the feeling of his people in the back of his mind – quiet but warm and there –, something he could touch when he felt lonely or sad and know that billions of people were at home on Gallifrey, safe and comfortable. He accidentally brushed against the part of his mind where they had once lay, and he flinched at the pain that touch produced, the aching loneliness and silence that echoed.

Zoe looked at him in concern. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he assured her. "Just a bad memory."

Her eyes softened, and she squeezed his thigh but didn't press him. He appreciated that about her, as he appreciated many things, and he thought again about telling her that when he stiffened. Something pricked at the edges of his hearing. His glass paused halfway to his mouth whilst Zoe's eyes sharpened, worry creeping in around the edges as she took note of his awareness.

"What?" She said, looking around them as she tried to find the source of what had set his skin prickling.

"Can you hear that?" He asked, and she strained her ears before shaking her head. "Listen."

She didn't need his superior hearing to hear the sudden explosion of glass as windows exploded outwards from their frames. The ground started to shake under them, and the bottle of wine tipped onto the floor, shattering into jagged shards and the rich burgundy liquid spread out towards the water's edge. People began screaming in the distance. Zoe stood up, immediately losing her balance. The ground was unsteady beneath her feet, concrete shifting as though it was sand sand, but he kept her upright with his hand on her arm. Behind them, the TARDIS gave a loud pulsing throb and –

"Oh my god, Doctor!" She exclaimed, pointing into the sky where energy was pulsing through the TARDIS and into the starry sky.

"It's the rift," the Doctor breathed. "The rift's opening!"


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter Forty-Six**

They burst through the doors and into the console room where they were greeted by a shower of sparks that exploded outwards from the central console. Vast amounts of uncontrollable energy ripped through the delicate wiring, the smell of burning metal singeing the air. On the plaza behind them, viewed through the open doors, cracks started to spear across the surface and split the earth open. Smooth concrete heaved upwards and crumbled under the force of the soil beneath that was flayed open by the crash of lightening. The Doctor lunged for the console. His hands were a blur as he tried to stop the rift feeding off the TARDIS's energy. The ship gave a powerful throb around them, so strong that Zoe felt it roll up through her feet and legs. She undulated with the force of it and staggered, losing her balance. She grunted when her knee broke her fall. Above her, oblivious to her physical difficulties, the Doctor tried to make sense of what was happening.

From within the corridor that led off the console room, Margaret Blaine stumbled into view.

"How the hell did you get out?" Zoe demanded, catching hold of a strut and pulling herself upright.

Another great, seismic shift sent her spinning into the guard rails. It dug into her diaphragm and knocked the breath from her.

"The door just opened!" Margaret protested, grabbing hold of a coral beam to keep herself on her feet. "What are you doing?"

"It's the rift. Time and space are ripping apart," the Doctor explained quickly, barely sparing her a glance. "The whole city's going to disappear!"

Zoe pushed away from the guard rail and thrust her hand out. "Screwdriver!"

She caught the screwdriver he tossed to her and activated it with her thumb. The blue light on the end lit up, and it vibrated familiarly in her palm. She pointed it at the extrapolator that pulsed with heat and energy. It was so hot she could feel the heat emanating from where she stood. It was easy to disconnect the circuits from the TARDIS as she wasn't concerned about keeping them intact; she simply sliced through the connections Jack had carefully put it place. The heat had caused the metal to melt onto the underside of the console and it was slowly hardening. It wouldn't drop free of its own accord. She pulled off her coat and struggled out of her jumper. She wrapped the soft cashmere around her palms and gripped the burning extrapolator. The heat seared through the delicate material and she grit her teeth against the pain.

With one foot braced against the console, she pulled with all her strength. The muscles in her arms tightened and strained. She cried out at the effort before the metal peeled away with a slow, slick sound. She flew backwards and hit the grating with loud thud. The pain of it made her vision white out; she gasped, searching for oxygen, even as her hands pushed the extrapolator away from her. Her fingers ached from the heat and protested when she pressed them against the floor to scramble back to her feet.

The energy transfer continued, unaffected by her actions.

"It's the extrapolator. I've disconnected it but it's still feeding off the engine," Zoe said to the Doctor with rapid-fire English. "It's using the TARDIS, and I don't know how to stop it. Cardiff is going to be levelled."

"Never mind Cardiff, it's going to rip open the planet," he said urgently. "Zoe, I need you to -"

His words were unceremoniously cut off by Jack, Rose, and Mickey crashing in through the TARDIS's doors, flushed and out of breath. They had seen the energy drawing from the TARDIS and rising high into the sky from their separate locations around the Bay and came running. Jack was missing his shirt and had lipstick smeared across his chest, visible beneath the split of his tan jacket. Despite his state of dishevelment, his eyes were focused and ready to help. His gaze landed on the extrapolator and he pushed forward, dropping to his knees to examine it, picking up the screwdriver from where Zoe had dropped it.

"What is it? What's happenin'?" Rose demanded, tumbling against Mickey as the TARDIS shuddered again.

"Very many bad things," Zoe said, finally getting back onto her feet and she pressed against the console. "The –"

"We're goin' to die!" Jackie cried, having found her way into the console room with her hair in a mess from the few hours of sleep she had been able to steal.

The Doctor rolled his eyes at the dramatics. "We're not going to die. Not yet anyway. At least I hope not."

Zoe groaned. "You're the worst at being reassuring!"

"Can we examine my character faults at a later date, please?"

"What's happenin'?" Jackie asked, frightened, and another heave of the TARDIS sent her forwards and Margaret seized her opportunity.

"Oh, just little me."

Her thick, muscular green arm slid out of her body suit. The sight of it sent a spark of fear through Zoe; she hesitated, seventeen years old again. It reached out and grabbed Jackie around the neck, lifting her from her feet. Jackie's bare feet dangled above the ground, her toes stretching and pointing, trying to touch the ground again as her hands clutched at the claw that held her. Rose and Zoe cried out with identical panic, terror wrapping around them. Jackie scraped her foot against Margaret's thigh and the suit slithered down her body. She stood before them in her true form.

Mickey made a move to lunge for Jackie to drag her to safety but Margaret swung around to face him. Jackie choked, face contorting with pain and fear.

"One wrong move and she snaps like a promise," she threatened.

"I might have known," the Doctor scowled in disgust, hands still. "Once a killer, always a killer."

"You would know," she said with disdain. "You, the handsome one, be a dear and put the extrapolator at my feet."

Jack hesitated but Margaret's grip on Jackie's neck tightened: a choked, wet sound spilled from her. He stepped forward and carefully placed it at his feet. His eyes never left Margaret. His hand briefly, and comfortingly, touched Jackie's calf.

"I thought you needed that to blow up the nuclear power station," Zoe said in an effort to keep her talking and not squeezing the life out of her mother who was beginning to turn red in the face.

Jack stepped back so that they were shoulder to shoulder, and she took his hand, drawing strength from him.

"Failing that, if I were to be arrested, then anyone capable of tracking me down would have considerable technology of their own," Margaret said, extremely pleased with the turn of events. "Therefore, they would be captivated by the extrapolator. Especially a magpie mind like yours, Doctor. So the extrapolator was programmed to go to plan B. To lock onto the nearest alien power source and open the rift. And what a power source it found. I'm back on schedule, thanks to you."

"The rift's going to convulse!" The Doctor said fiercely. "You'll destroy the whole planet."

"And you with it!" She laughed, stepping onto the extrapolator. "Whilst I ride this board over the crest of the inferno all the way to freedom. Stand back, boys and girls. Surf's up."

Zoe braced herself. She pressed the balls of her feet into the railing beneath her shoes and her muscles went taut with anticipation. She was prepared to slam her full body weight into Margaret and wrestle Jackie free if she had to but there was a nudge in the back of her mind: a warning not to act. It took her a long moment to work through her adrenaline and confusion to realise that TARDIS was communicating with her. The ship had never communicated so clearly with her before, and the shock of it caused her to stagger slightly, Jack's hand keeping her balanced.

In front of them, the TARDIS console cracked open and a bright golden light spilled like a river over Margaret.

"Of course, opening the rift means you'll pull this ship apart," the Doctor said with more calm that he should have been feeling in that moment, but Zoe looked at the light and touched the presence in the back of her mind. She understood and delirious relief swept through her. She threw her pride and love at the TARDIS which warmed under her regard. "And it's not just any old power source. It's the TARDIS. _My_ TARDIS: the best ship in the universe."

"It'll make wonderful scrap," Margaret told him, but she sounded distracted, her eyes slipping constantly back to the light even as she tried to focus.

"You're an idiot." Zoe couldn't help but laugh. She felt dizzy from the knowledge that the TARDIS was going to save her mother. She didn't know how, she just knew that something was going to happen. "Don't you understand? The TARDIS is alive, and you're trying to rip her apart at the seams. That light, Margaret -"

She was entranced by it. "It's so bright.".

"You've opened her soul," the Doctor said. "Look at it, Margaret. Look inside, Blon Fel Fotch. Look at the light."

Margaret stared into the light.

Golden tendrils reached out from within the very heart of the TARDIS and the most beautiful music Zoe had ever heard filled her mind. It was powerful, beautiful, sad, and joyful all at once, and it sank deeper than any music ever had. It touched parts of her she hadn't known existed until that moment and tears slipped silently down her cheeks as she was bathed in it. She never wanted to music to end. Her muscles relaxed and she stood up straighter, still watching Margaret who let herself fall into the light. Her grip relaxed and Jackie dropped to her feet, gasping for breath.

Zoe let go of Jack's hand and rushed forwards. She grabbed hold of her mother under her arms and pulled her back, out of the way of the light. She fell back onto her behind, legs bracketing Jackie, as Margaret looked up from liquid gold light, tears glistening on her large green cheeks.

Her smile was soft and beautiful. "Thank you."

She took one small step forward and the tendrils wrapped around her, drawing her in for an embrace, and she disappeared. All that was left of her was her bodysuit that was crumpled where she had stepped out of it earlier.

"Don't look! Nobody look!" The Doctor yelled. Zoe snapped her eyes shut and covered Jackie's with her hand. He leapt to close the panel, concealing the TARDIS's soul back within her. "Jack, come on, shut it all down. Shut down! Mickey, that panel over there, turn all those switches to the right."

As the two of them hurried to do as instructed, the energy stopped pouring into the sky. The TARDIS stopped shaking, and Zoe's ears rung with the sudden silence.

"Nicely done," the Doctor breathed out, face etched with relief. "Thank you...all of you."

Zoe hugged her mother tightly from behind, and Rose stumbled forward, dropping to her knees, and she tangled herself up with them. They were a mess of limbs and bodies, and Zoe pressed her face into Jackie's hair and her shoulders shook as she choked on a sob. Around Jackie's throat there was a dark red line that would bruise horribly and, when she spoke, her voice was hoarse and sore.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," Zoe said, lifting her tear-stained face to the Doctor. "What did happen? Where's Margaret?"

"Must've got burned up," Jack said, and she noticed his state of undress for the first time. He was also missing a sock. "Carried out her own death sentence."

"No," the Doctor disagreed, moving towards the extrapolator, "I don't think she's dead."

"Then where'd she go?" Mickey asked whilst Jackie shook in Zoe's arms, her nails digging into her forearm.

"She looked into the heart of the TARDIS. Even I don't know how strong that is," he said, crouching down and looking under the console. "And the ship's telepathic, like I told you. Gets inside your head; translates alien languages. Maybe the raw energy can translate all sorts of thoughts. Aha!"

He re-emerged from under the console with a large green egg with dreadlocks in his hands.

"Here she is."

"She's an egg?" Zoe asked, feeling as though she'd been on a roller coaster of emotions in the last ten minutes.

"Regressed to her childhood," the Doctor said with a small smile.

"She's an egg?" Jack repeated.

"She can start again. Live her life from scratch," he told them, and the weight of carrying out a death sentence lifted from all their shoulders. "If we take her home, give her to a different family, tell them to bring her up properly, she might be all right!"

"Or she might be worse," Jack warned, unconvinced.

"No," Zoe said, cheek pressed against Jackie's. "The Doctor's right. She'll have a second chance. It's up to her what she does with it. Take her home, give her to a good family, and let her be loved. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"She's an egg," Rose said.

"An actual egg," Mickey agreed, unable to take his eyes away from egg-Margaret.

"I think we've covered the fact that she is, in fact, an egg," the Doctor said, amused an. Hepassed Margaret to Jack who took her even though it was clear he didn't want to. He held her out from his body, his nose wrinkled in distaste. "On an even brighter side, we can leave now. Opening the rift filled us up with energy. Next stop, Raxacoricofallapatorius."

"Doctor."

He looked down at Zoe with a smile that died when he saw Jackie in her arms. Her face was stained with colour, and her throat ribboned with red. Her hands were clutching at her daughters and there were fresh tears on her cheeks. He and Jackie disagreed about many things, and they didn't particularly like one another, but he had never wanted to see her hurt or in pain. His face softened and he knelt down in front of her. With slow, gentle hands he reached for her face. She flinched away from his touch, her eyes watching him guardedly, and he lowered his hands before he touched her.

"Let's get you taken care of, eh?" He said quietly. "Can you girls help her to the sickbay? I'll look at her throat there."

"C'mon, Mum," Rose said, voice shaking slightly and, between her and her sister, they were able to get Jackie on her feet.

Slowly, they left the console room with their shaken mother between them.

* * *

 _Later_

Rose shut the door to Zoe's bedroom and flicked the lock. There wasn't normally a lock on the door as there was never a need for one, but one would appear when the TARDIS felt it was necessary. Rose remembered that a lock had appeared on her door the night she brought Adam Mitchell on board and that really should have been a sign he was no good. The lock was for Jackie's sake more than anything. The TARDIS sensed her distress and wanted her to feel safe and comfortable. The door would only open from the inside and wouldn't let anyone – notably the Doctor – in. She was helped into bed by her youngest daughter who immediately curled up into the space next to her. Rose crawled across both of them to plaster herself against Jackie's back, their legs and arms entwined.

"I'm sorry," Zoe whispered, her mother's face so close that she was a blur. "Mum, I'm so sorry."

"This is your life then?" Jackie asked, and she sounded normal. The Doctor was able to heal her crushed windpipe and, by morning, the bruising around her throat would be gone. "All this stuff?"

"This was just bad stuff," she said. "Normally it's different to this. Like the hopping planet and Gaju. That was the first place he ever took me. We spent a week just doing normal stuff. This bit, the trouble bit, that's the in-between stuff. I promise."

"How can you say that?" She demanded, and although she sounded normal, she also sounded tired and sick to the bone of what her life had become. "After everythin' that's happened, how can you say that?"

"Because it's true, Mum," Rose said, voice muffled by Jackie's hair. "Most of the time we're just havin' a laugh with the Doctor and Jack, explorin' and the like, but sometimes we do stuff like this."

Jackie's face twisted and her voice was thick with emotion. "I don't want you to do this any more. I want you both to come home."

Zoe's eyes softened. "Mum –"

"No, this is dangerous," she said, wiping at her nose with the shoulder of Zoe's top. "This is so dangerous. You've been _tortured_ , Zoe. Rose was missin' for a year. An' now you're older too."

"Mum, no, listen," Rose said, sitting up and taking Jackie's hand. "You're just seein' the bad stuff, really. So much good has happened. Like – like –" her eyes flicked as she tried to think but her mind was coming up blank before she remembered. "Like Dad!"

"What?"

"I met Dad, Mum," she said, and Jackie rolled onto her back. "The Doctor took me to meet him. I was at your weddin'. He got your name wrong but you said it was good 'nough. You looked really pretty in your dress an' with your hair like that."

"You can't have," Jackie said, staring up at her.

"An' do you remember? There was a girl with him when he died," Rose said, tears slipping down her cheeks. Zoe curled tighter against Jackie. "A blonde girl. That was me, Mum. I was with him when he died."

"No. Stop it."

"It's true," she sniffed, wiping at her face. "He didn't die alone because I was there because the Doctor took me there. It was me."

"Shut up," Jackie demanded, sitting up. "Stop it. Right now."

"That's what we do, Mum," Rose pressed on, and Zoe rolled to get some tissues from her bedside table. She held them out to her sister by the tips of her fingers. "We make things better for people."

Jackie pushed herself up and out of Zoe's bed, climbing over her daughter's legs, so that she was on her feet. She looked old in a way that Zoe recognised from those awful first few weeks after Rose's disappearance when the lines on her face became more pronounced and the look in her eyes became harder, more grief-stricken. Rose blew her nose and shifted to sit next to her sister on the edge of the bed. It was a position that they often sat in as children when Jackie wanted to tell them off about something, or tell them that she was dating someone new and he would be around more. Their knees knocked together, and Rose leaned into her.

"Come home," Jackie finally said, limbs twitching with impatience and worry. "Both of you. Isn't it time to come home yet?"

Rose looked at her feet but Zoe kept her eyes on their mother.

"Mum," she began, "I don't want to."

"What about uni?" She asked desperately. "You've been set on goin' to uni ever since you figured out what it was. An' now what? You're goin' to throw away all your hard work because of a man? I taught you better than that."

"You have, you did," Zoe said emphatically. "And uni's not going anywhere. I'm still going to go but just...not yet."

"When, Zoe? When? When is this goin' to be enough?"

"I don't know!" She exclaimed. "I'm sorry, but I don't know. All I know is that I'm not ready to leave yet!"

"Are you ever goin' to be ready?" Jackie demanded. "Both of you? Are either of you goin' to be ready to leave, or will he just get bored of you an' leave you behind?"

" _Mum!"_ They cried in unison.

"You two are the only things in this world that I have done right," Jackie told them, angrily brushing her tears away. "An' you're goin' to end up dead if you keep doin' this. How much longer will it be before you aren't lucky?"

"We could also get hit by a bus crossin' the street," Rose pointed out. "Or shot, or stabbed like every other young person on the estate. It's not any safer in London, Mum, it's just a different kind of danger."

"I know how to protect you from that!"

"We don't need your protection!"

"Stop yelling!" Zoe yelled, and Jackie and Rose stepped back from their rising anger. "Please, just stop yelling, both of you."

The three of them breathed into the sharp silence that was left behind.

"I'm sorry," Zoe apologised again, raising her eyes to her mother's. "I am. I can't imagine how awful this is for you, knowing that we're out there and only knowing the bad bits. But you need to trust us, Mum. Trust us, not the Doctor. Trust that we'll look after each other and get each other home safe."

"I'm not going to let anythin' happen to her," Rose said, taking Zoe's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"She won't," Zoe agreed, remembering Van Statten's bunker where Rose had pushed her under the door at the expense of her own life; it wasn't something she intended to tell Jackie but it formed part of the foundation of her faith in Rose. "And I'm not going to let anything happen to Rose either. We're a team, the two of us."

"An' we'll always come home," Rose promised. _"Always."_

Jackie's face crumbled, and she pressed her hands to her cheeks, covering her eyes; her knees buckled. Rose and Zoe moved forward as one, catching their mother until they were knotted on the ground with each other.

* * *

Mickey tried not to breathe too loudly.

He was afraid that if the Doctor realised he was still in the console room and not with the girls then he would be sent away. He and Jack were talking about taking the egg back to the planet with the unpronounceable name and something sparked inside of Mickey: a sense of excitement and adventure. Rose had told him all about the planets she had seen, and even Zoe burbled over with excitement on occasion when it came to telling him about their adventures. Sometimes he regretted not taking the Doctor up on his offer to come with them after Downing Street. He thought about what he was missing with the adventures and the friendships that seemed so much _more_ than what he was used to but part of him still hesitated about jumping in.

He also refused to ask the Doctor to come with them.

The other man would be insufferable, and Mickey didn't want to give him the pleasure of knowing that he had something Mickey wanted.

 _Git._

Instead, he lingered on the edge of the room and watched the Doctor flick buttons and pull levers and felt the TARDIS shudder under his feet. It wasn't his first time travelling in the magic blue box, but the first time around, he had been terrified. There had been a large, lava-like creature trying to kill him and Rose was swinging from a metal chain and then the Doctor had opened the door to the universe. It was all a little too much to take in at the time so he simply hadn't; and in the days, weeks, and months that had followed, it had been easy to forget the TARDIS as something from a dream. He had forgotten how powerful the vibrations were, and he caught hold of a railing to stop himself falling as they twisted through the Time Vortex.

The egg shook in the nest of Jack's jacket that was built around it in order to stop it toppling over. Mickey reached out and placed the top of his hand on the dreadlocks. He regretted it instantly as it was rough and slimy. He swallowed his distaste back and ignored the sensation against his palm. It was either hold it steady or let it shatter on the floor and that didn't seem right to him.

It didn't take them long to get to their destination. He briefly wondered how the Time Vortex worked to allow them to move from one place to another so quickly. Zoe would probably know. He felt she would be a better person to ask than the Doctor as she was far less likely to mock him and make him feel two inches tall. His knees stopped shaking when the vibrations died down and the Time Rotor slowed its workings until it stilled completely.

"Mickey, grab Margaret," the Doctor said without looking at him. Mickey jerked at the realisation he hadn't been forgotten. "Jack, no flirting."

The captain looked offended. "You may as well ask me to stop breathing."

"Is that an option?"

The words out of Jack's mouth were incomprehensible to Mickey but they clearly meant something to the Doctor as his mouth dropped open, scandalised.

"Oi! Language!"

Jack laughed on his way down the ramp, the muscles of his back shifting as he moved, and Mickey kept his eyes off them. He wasn't sure he liked the feelings Jack's presence created in him, so he kept his eyes averted whilst his cheeks heated. To distract himself he lifted Margaret into his arms and was surprised by how heavy she was. She was slightly unwieldy and slipped down the front of his body. He used his thigh to push her back up and hurried out of the TARDIS after them, stepping onto his first alien planet with no fanfare or preparation.

The bright swathe of green made his eyes squint in pain until his vision adjusted.

"Woah." He gaped, Margaret sliding down his body again. The Doctor reached over and took her from him. "It's like the Emerald City."

"The what?" Jack asked, sweeping a hand through his hair as he took in the high humidity that made sweat bead finely on his skin.

"From The Wizard of Oz."

"There's a wizard?" He said, looking over at him with an edge of delight on his features. "On Earth?"

"What? No, it's a film."

"Jack's from the 51st century, remember?" The Doctor said, glancing around. "Different types of media then."

Disappointment briefly appeared on his face before Jack leaned in, curious. "There's a film about a wizard called Oz?"

"Pretty much," the Doctor said. "And there's a city there that is completely green, called the Emerald City. And you're not far wrong, Mickey. This is very green. Painfully green."

Everything was green.

From the buildings to the ground to the people to the sky.

Buildings rose high up into the sky in strange bulbous shapes that seemed to force themselves out of the ground as though they had been grown, not constructed. Hover cars zoomed feet above the surface and Mickey watched them move, fascinated, fingers itching to try and drive one. When clouds passed overhead, they were heavy with rain, dark green in colour and he wanted to see it break so that he could find out if the rain was also green. Excitement and disbelief surged through him.

He was standing on an alien planet with alien soil beneath his feet in the company of a man from 3000 years in the future and another from a planet far away.

No wonder Rose didn't want to give it up.

"Where do we need to go?" Jack asked, shielding his eyes from the glare. "And who do we need to talk to?"

"I sent a message ahead of us," the Doctor said. "Someone should be coming to meet us."

"How did you send a message?" Mickey asked, falling back onto the flats of his feet from where he'd been rolling onto the balls, testing the heavier gravity. "It took us five minutes."

"Time travel, Rickey."

He burned a little in embarrassment but he rallied. "Don't start that again."

The Doctor smirked at him.

 _Git_ , he thought, as they settled in to wait for the representative of the Raxacoricofallapatorian government to make themselves known.

* * *

After passing Margaret over into the care of her government, along with an explanation of how she had become an egg again, which took far longer than the Doctor had hoped it would, the three of them were able to return to the TARDIS. Mickey was yawning but trying to hide it, so the Doctor sent him and Jack off to bed – separate _beds_ as he made clear to Jack with a stern look. A guest room made itself available for his extra passenger. Only once Mickey was out of sight did the Doctor allow himself a small chuckle. It had been many months since Rose and Zoe were as wide-eyed and delighted by a new alien planet as Mickey had just been; though they certainly still loved it, but there was something pure and wonderful about the first time a human saw something completely new.

Mickey hadn't disappointed. His mouth, unbeknownst to him, had remained open the entire time they were on the surface. He only realised he was gaping when he had nearly choked when a fly the size of an eyeball flew into his mouth and bounced off the back of his throat.

It was a shame that Mickey didn't seem inclined to join them as the Doctor thought he would make a good addition to the TARDIS, and it would allow him and Rose to sort out whatever was happening between them. Not that he paid attention to it. Zoe used to babble on occasionally in the time before France, thinking out loud about the state of her sister's love life, but she didn't seem to have given it any thought since she came back. At least no thoughts that she spoke aloud as her habit of just saying whatever passed through her mind to him had faded, the loss of which he mourned.

He thought about going to bed and getting an hour's worth of sleep, but he decided against it as he was too wired from his conversations with both Jackie and Margaret.

Normally he would bother Zoe when he was worked up like he was but he was loathe to approach her bedroom where the Tyler family had sequestered themselves. Entering her room as though he belonged there would do absolutely nothing to soothe the frayed edges of Jackie's temper. He doubted she would ever like him and that thought bothered him more than he would like. He wanted Zoe's mother to like him, he just didn't know how to go about accomplishing that.

It was so much easier back when he just didn't meet people's families. He had never met Sarah-Jane's Aunt Lavinia, though he certainly knew of her. Nor had he met Tegan's brother whom she had spoke fondly of: an architect, if he remembered right. Yet he found himself tangled up in the affairs of the Tyler family, and it bothered him that he wasn't more bothered by the domesticities his friendship with Rose and Zoe had foisted upon him.

He walked past her bedroom and made his way to the library. He might as well start on the pile of books he'd been intending to read for some time, never quite getting around to it.

The smell of his library was an instant comfort to him: old, weathered books with a hint of leather from the furniture, and aged, polished wood. All of it combined to form the perfect smell. Peri once mentioned that she wished she could bottle the smell of a library and so he had taken her to a perfumery in Italy in the late 21st century where they sold the smell of books as perfumes. Since then, every time he caught a hint of books on a warm summer's day, he thought of Peri with her wide smile and large, dark eyes.

He picked a book from his pile at random and sat in his favourite armchair. He opened the cover and tried to read but it was difficult to focus on the words. His mind kept drifting to Zoe and her family. He had never thought Jackie stupid but he had underestimated how observant she was, and he shrunk at the thought of her knowing his feelings. He doubted she would tell Zoe as he couldn't think of why she would do so. Telling Zoe wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. She would hardly condemn him for his feelings even if she did let him down gently. He just didn't want her to let him down; he wanted her to not know about it.

 _But,_ his traitorous mind whispered, _Professor Tyler._

She was a tantalising glimpse into his future: a Zoe who knew him and loved him, though in what capacity he didn't know. She had kissed him – and it was a lovely kiss – but there were years that stretched between them that he didn't know about. For all he knew they occasionally kissed and that was that. She might have picked up a few of Jack's traits over the years, which did seem possible as Jack was like friendly bacteria: easily spreadable. He knew that she was going to be a part of his life for some time yet as she had seen another face. The certainty comforted him, though he knew that time was malleable and it wasn't sent in stone, but he chose not to worry about that.

Perhaps, by the time Zoe was a professor, he would have got to grips with himself and worked through his feelings for her so that he didn't have to make her uncomfortable with his pining.

He hated the thought of their friendship souring because he couldn't control his feelings.

"Thought I'd find you here," the Doctor started so badly that the book fell from his lap. Zoe stared at him in surprise. "I'm sorry. I thought you heard me come in."

"No, it's fine, sorry," he said, embarrassed. "I – er – I was lost in thought."

Her lips curled up. "Clearly."

She bent to pick up his book and held it out to him. He took it with a small, awkward smile and kept his eyes up off her bare legs that were visible beneath the small pair of loose cotton shorts she preferred to wear in bed.

"Thanks." He tucked the book away, and she sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, knees pressed together, balls of her feet hard against the ground. "Everything okay with your mum?"

"Not really," she admitted, hunching in on herself, looking for all the world like a sad child who didn't know what to do. He didn't like her looking like that. "Mum...she's _really_ unhappy about all of this. France, Tolandra, Rose's twelve months, and now nearly being choked to death by Margaret. It's all too much for her."

"It is a lot."

"I don't know what I was thinking," she said, eyes pained. "But I guess I thought she'd be okay with it. Which is stupid because why would she be okay with it? There are seven years of my life that she's never going to be a part of. She's never going to meet Reinette and get to know her. She's never going to see me in my wedding dress. And I what? I thought she'd just accept it? God, I'm so stupid."

"You're the least stupid person I know," the Doctor said kindly, leaning forwards; he went to touch her knee but, at the last minute, stopped himself.

"Mum asked us to stop," Zoe said quietly, raising her eyes to his, and there was a flicker of uncertainty there. "Travelling with you. She wants us to come home."

The Doctor's blood ran cold in his veins but his face didn't change.

"Is that what you want?" He asked. "To leave?"

"I don't want to," she said. "But maybe I should. Maybe I do need a break from all this. Give Mum time to adjust to this new way of living. It has been a lot for her, all of this happening at once."

"The choice is yours," he reminded her, even though the words were like ash in his mouth. "It always has been but I don't want you to go."

Her face pulled, and she ducked her head, her shoulders rising to her ears. He recognised the signs of coming tears having had plenty of experience with them over the last twelve months, and he reached for her. She went into his arms easily: curled up but pliable. He drew her onto his lap, and she tried to twist herself inside of him. His hand hesitated briefly over the exposed skin of her thigh, uncertain whether he should or not, but as she buried her face in his shoulder his palm settled there reassuringly. He held her to him as her fingers fisted into his soft jumper; she sobbed quietly, as though ashamed, against him.

She was exhausted: emotionally and physically. He had known that it was going to be difficult to see her family again, and she had been doing so well, but everyone had their limits and she had reached hers.

"What do you need from me?" He whispered, mouth moving against the top of her head. He would give anything to take the pain from her and bear it in her place. "Tell me, and I'll do it."

"This." She got out between her tears. "Just this."

He tightened his arms around her and closed his eyes. If she needed him to hold her whilst she cried then he could do that. It wasn't the first time but he always hoped it would be the last. It hurt to see her in pain when there was nothing he could do to fix her: a broken bone or a bump on the head was easy to deal with but she was heart sick, and he couldn't help with that.

At least not in the way he wanted to.

"I've got you," the Doctor promised. "I've got you."

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was a quiet affair. Zoe had fallen asleep on top of the Doctor and slept as soundly as was possible in his arms. He didn't move until she woke up to the sound of Jack and Mickey laughing with each other as they made their way towards the kitchen, enjoying the warm weight of her against him and the soft huffs of breath she released against his throat whilst she slept. She rubbed her forehead against the warm curve of his neck, not wanting to move from her place of safety where nothing could hurt her, but she eventually untangled herself, her lips leaving a soft mark against his bristly chin. She padded into the kitchen to get breakfast going, flicking on her coffee machine as she did so and unearthing a griddle so that she could make pancakes and bacon.

The kitchen slowly began to fill with people: Jack and Mickey who were discussing sport in the 51st century; the Doctor who tried to sneak a piece of bacon off the growing pile only to get his hand slapped with the spatula; and Rose and Jackie who entered looking tired and rumpled. Her mother rested her hand on Zoe's back, warm and solid, until she moved past to get a cup of tea that Rose assured her was PG Tips and not any alien blend. The Doctor opened his mouth to say something about that but thought better of it, not wanting to draw Jackie's ire onto him so early in the day, and he busied himself with helping Zoe put breakfast on the table.

"What happened to Margaret?" Rose asked once they were all seated and fluffy pancakes were deposited onto individual plates.

It had taken Zoe weeks to get the pancake recipe just right, and the Doctor had eaten many of her unsuccessful attempts with the same vigour that he now used to shove forkfuls of the food into his mouth.

"Took her home," the Doctor said, swallowing a large mouthful that burned the roof of his mouth. "The Raxacoricofallapatorian government have placed her in the foster system. They said it wouldn't take long to find her a family."

"Good," Zoe said. "Do you think she'll remember her life?"

"Hard to say," he said. "Maybe. Could be snatches of dreams here and then; could be everything, could be nothing. We won't know until she's older, but the government will keep an eye on her."

"Did you go with them?" Rose asked Mickey who paused, fork halfway to his mouth, syrup dripping onto his plate. He nodded and a smile unfurled across her face. "Your first alien planet then."

He grinned, and Zoe smiled, soft and amused. "I remember my first alien planet."

Rose met her eyes, warmth lining them. "Me too."

"Mine was Praxis," Jack said. "It was in the the same solar system; of course, no one from my neck of the woods could afford to go anywhere else. My parents saved for months to send me on a school trip to the gravitational bubble on one of our moons."

"Is that the one with the time loop field?" The Doctor asked curiously.

"That's it," he nodded. "And it was fun until it wasn't. I entered the time loop field just as there was a glitch in the gravitational matrix and I threw up, except time kept resetting so I kept throwing up."

"Wait," Zoe frowned, suddenly concerned. "Time loops means you're repeating the same moment, resetting it. When you threw up –?"

"Out it went but then it worked its way back in again," Jack said, and there were multiple groans of disgust that rippled around the table. Zoe crinkled her nose and pushed her plate away from her, appetite lost. "Eleven times it happened before they fixed the problem."

"You poor bastard," the Doctor chuckled, sympathy settled in the lines of his smile. "How old were you?"

"Seven," he grinned easily. "My parents tried to sue the corporation but you know how it is with big business."

"That is the single most disgusting thing I've ever heard," Zoe told him. "Thank you so much for sharing over breakfast."

"You're very welcome," Jack replied, and she rolled her eyes at him. "More tea, Jackie?"

"Ta," Jackie said, holding her cup out.

"So back to London then?" He asked, settling back in his seat.

"I should think so," the Doctor said, glancing briefly at Jackie who was simply ignoring him; he considered that a vast improvement on the previous day. He did drop his arm from around the back of Zoe's chair though as there was no sense in giving her even more ammunition to use against him. "Mickey's got work –"

"You remember that?" The man in question asked, surprised.

"Course," he scoffed with a roll of his eyes. "You got that promotion." Zoe hid her smile behind her cup of coffee. "And I'm sure Jackie wants to get home as well, so I'll just drop us back at the Estate and –"

"In the right time?" Jackie interrupted, and the atmosphere shifted a little, losing its friendly edge and sharpening unpleasantly.

"Of course," the Doctor said evenly, refusing to be offended. "I'll double and triple check if it makes you feel better."

"Or..." Zoe said and her eyes slid to him. He raised his eyebrows. "I could drive."

"You can drive the TARDIS?" Jack asked, envy seeping into his words. He looked to the Doctor accusingly. "You taught her to fly the TARDIS?"

"I was sad, and he doesn't like me sad," she replied, grinning. He scratched at his jaw as his ears darkened. "And I'm not half bad. I haven't crashed us yet."

"You did dent the 1980s though."

She looked mildly exasperated. "What damage could I really have done?"

"Historians have commented that the Berlin Wall fell unexpectedly.," the Doctor said, keeping a slow smile from growing on her face as she was getting harder and harder to tease now that she knew more about time travel. Her eyes widened. "No one predicted it."

"What? Seriously?" She asked. "Because I bumped up against the 1980s, I ended the Cold War?"

"Maybe, who knows?" He shrugged, eyes sly and mischievous.

"Are you having me on?" She asked him. "Like how you're only _'friends'_ with Cleopatra?"

He did not appreciate the quotation marks she flung up in the air.

"I _am_ only friends with Cleo." Jack and Rose snorted in disbelief. "I am!"

"So it's agreed then," Zoe said cheerfully. "I'll drive."

"No, wait, no," the Doctor said quickly, the conversation getting away from him. "We didn't agree that. We 100% didn't agree that."

"I'll go have a quick shower and pop some clothes on," she said, rising to her feet. She rapped him fondly on the shoulder with her knuckles. "You can do the washing up."

"You're not driving!"

"I'm not listening to you!"


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

"Shit," Zoe said under her breath. "Shit, shit, shittity, shit."

The Doctor was going to be unbearable. She could hear the mockery already and she grimaced at it. She had been too confident and made a mistake somewhere and now she was going to have to face the Doctor with egg on her face whilst swallowing back her pride. She contemplated her options – she could deny everything and pretend that they were exactly where she wanted to be; she could knock herself out against the side of the TARDIS and hope that unconsciousness was a better alternative; or she could admit that she had clearly messed up and face her just desserts with her shoulders back and chin raised. She sighed heavily and scowled at her surroundings as though they were to blame for her mistake. She turned back to the door and caught the groan before it left her mouth. The Doctor was standing in the open doorway and a delighted grin curved on his mouth.

Her stomach sank.

"Well, well, well," the Doctor said, eyes glittering joyfully. "What have we here?"

It was her own fault what was coming. The Catholic priest that gave mass every Christmas in Versailles had always said that pride was a dangerous thing, and Zoe, who had only paid attention because Reinette liked to talk about the service afterwards, could hear his words now. If only there was a confessional somewhere nearby. She could lock herself in and not have to face the humiliation that was sure to come.

"There is a possibility," she began lightly, "that I might have got the landing coordinates just a little bit off."

He slowly removed his hands from his pockets and folded his arms across his chest as his eyes took in their surroundings.

"Mmhmm." The smile on his face told her all she needed to know about just how much he was enjoying her small failure. "What gave it away? Was it the snow or the two moons in the sky?"

She glanced up and cursed.

"I hate you."

His eyes dropped to hers, bright and full of laughter. "No, you don't."

"What's the hold up?" Jack asked from behind the Doctor's shoulder, rising up onto the balls of his feet to peer out. "Oh, is that a jungle? I love a good jungle. Do you guys live near a jungle?"

"No, no they do not," the Doctor said, and he stepped to one side to let the others out to share in Zoe's humiliation. She scowled at him, but he just dropped an arm around her shoulders. She dug her elbow into his side to free herself. "It would appear that Zoe _blind monkeys can land a TARDIS without any problems, Doctor, I don't know why it's so difficult for you_ Tyler has landed us in the wrong place."

Rose laughed but quickly smothered it at the look on her sister's face. "Sorry."

She didn't sound sorry.

"At times like these," the Doctor said grandiosely, "one is reminded of a phrase – a powerful phrase, full of wisdom. How does it go again. Ah, that's right – pride goeth before the fall."

Jack coughed into his fist to hide his amusement, but Mickey just laughed. Zoe rolled her eyes and accepted the embarrassment as her due.

"I get it," she said, shaking her head. "I was doing all this –" she flapped her hand to mimic running her mouth off. "And now I've fucked up. Can we please just get back into the TARDIS so I can do it properly this time?"

"The only reason I'm saying yes is because your mother's here," the Doctor told her as Jackie was lingering on the threshold of the TARDIS, looking out but not daring to step foot on the blanket of pure white snow. "Otherwise we'd explore."

"Where are we anyway?" Rose asked. "Is this Earth?"

"Sadly, no," Zoe sighed, pointing up at the sky where the two moons hung heavy in the daylight.

In her overconfidence, she must have input the longitude and latitude of the Powell Estate wrong.

 _Dammit._

Still, wherever they were, it was lovely.

The air was dry and cold. It bit at the back of their throats when they breathed in. There was a thick layer of snow on the ground that made them sink ankle deep and make Rose and Zoe regret wearing slip-ons as the ice numbed the skin above their shoes. The sky above them was a bright, brilliant blue without a single cloud to be seen, allowing the two moons to remain visible even though it appeared to be the middle of the day. In front of them, there was a dense jungle. The TARDIS had landed on the edge of it, and the shadows within flickered and moved with local wildlife. Snow crunched beneath Mickey's shoes as he walked away from the TARDIS, curious about their surroundings.

Despite her failure at actually reaching the correct destination, Zoe had managed to park the TARDIS decently in a snow-covered clearing so they had space to fan out without smacking into branches or tripping over covered roots. To their left there were large mountains that were streaked with snow. They stretched out as far as the eye could see and it was a breathtaking vista.

Zoe was reminded of Versailles at Christmas with its frost-covered trees and gardens hidden by the pure white snow.

"Looks like Peru," the Doctor said, sticking his tongue out before scowling and spitting the taste from his mouth. She watched him with bemusement. "Doesn't take like it though."

"You can taste countries?" Rose asked with her eyebrows raised before deciding to not even go there. Once he was set off, he could be very hard to shut up. "Never mind."

"Do they even have snow in Peru?" Mickey asked. "Isn't it just hot?"

"Depends where you are," the Doctor said, and he crouched to scoop a handful of snow into his palm. He brought it to his mouth and ate some.

"Doctor!" Zoe protested. "Again with the licking! You have a screwdriver to do that."

"Easier this way."

"Grosser," she corrected.

"This is definitely not Earth snow," the Doctor said, ignoring her. He dropped it from his palm and brushed his hand against his jeans. "If the two moons hadn't been a dead giveaway, the snow would have. We're not in Kansas any more, Toto."

Jack looked confused above them. "What?"

"Wizard of Oz," Mickey said helpfully.

"Bollocks," Zoe sighed before she rallied herself. "Right, let me try this again. And this time I'm not going to be cocky."

"Ah, don't worry about it." He smiled at her as Rose dashed back into the TARDIS, chilled from only wearing her shirt sleeves. She pulled her mother back inside with her as well whilst Mickey poked at the snow with his foot, drawing a pattern on the surface. "It's not bad for your first solo flight. It might be the wrong planet but at least you landed us correctly. I knew one Time Lord that got their TARDIS stuck in a meteor. Had to get a team of engineers out to fix the problem."

She looked up at him, curious. "Were you that Time Lord?"

"No. Maybe." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Shut up."

She laughed and bumped her hip against his, leading the way back into the TARDIS. Jack shut the door behind them and she clapped her hands together.

"Right!" She said with a smile. "Second time's the charm."

Rose snorted from where she was shaking the snow off her shoes.

"That's the spirit," Jack grinned at her, leaning back against the guard rail. "We'll get there eventually."

She winked at him and tried again.

The TARDIS made a horrible groaning sound like it had eaten something bad. It was such an awful sound that the group clapped their hands over their ears to try and block it out but with little success. Zoe's hands immediately flew up and off the console. She looked to the Doctor with wide eyes.

"What did I do?"

She'd never heard the TARDIS make such a sound before.

"Nothing," the Doctor said with a frown, at her shoulder and looking down at the console with concern running through his fingertips as he touched it. "That shouldn't have happened."

He tried to move them again, mimicking Zoe's previous actions exactly, but the groaning protest of the ship grew louder until he removed his hands.

"Well," he said after a heartbeat, "this is strange."

* * *

"Whose is this anyway?"

Rose glanced over at her mother and examined the swimming costume closer. "No idea. I don't actually know where all the clothes come from."

"Around!" Zoe called out to them from in front of the mirror. She was trying to stuff her curls into a swimming cap with some difficulty. "And the TARDIS is old anyway. She was in the scrapyard when the Doctor nicked her, so I don't think the wardrobe was ever emptied out."

"He stole the ship?" Jackie asked, voice rising in disapproval.

"You stole Frannie's car once," her youngest daughter reminded her.

"You were four, how d'you remember that?"

Zoe stuck her head around the door, cap in hand having given up the fight, and flashed her a cheeky grin. "Rose told me."

"Snitches get stitches," Rose said warningly as she strolled past in a bright pink two piece.

Whilst the Doctor was attempting to figure out what was wrong with the TARDIS, Zoe tried to keep her mother entertained. She offered to give her a tour of the ship, but it just seemed to discomfort Jackie who didn't find the zero-gravity room as fun as her daughters did and couldn't be persuaded to try the chocolate from the chocolate fountain room. In the end, struggling to find something to do that she knew her mother would liked, she guided them to the relaxation pool that she had used to recover after her torture on Tolandra. It was peaceful and relaxing with the sounds of wild birds filling the air around them and Jackie relaxed a little at the sight of it. She still took some persuading but she eventually agreed to have a swim and Rose dashed away to get their swimming costumes, coming back before the air grew awkward between mother and daughter.

"Why is there a swimmin' pool on the ship?" Jackie asked, stepping tentatively into what she hoped wasn't alien water but since Rose cannonballed in, she assumed it was more or less safe for human skin.

"Why not?" Zoe replied, and Jackie discreetly swept her eyes over her daughter to make sure that she was healthy. "There's also a tennis court around here somewhere but I've yet to find it. I prefer to play squash myself."

It was easier to see the changes when she wasn't wearing a lot of clothing. All of the puppy fat that had clung to her throughout her teenage years had been stripped away. She was slender, but she was also tone and lean. Her legs and arms were filled with definition when she moved them. Her skin was free of blemishes, something that had worried her as Zoe never spoke about what happened on Tolandra but Jackie did worry that there would be a mess of scars on her skin, or some physical remnant of what had happened to her. Zoe caught her staring and gave her a smile.

"I'm fine, Mum."

"You look it." Jackie said honestly, and the expression on her daughter's face softened. "You exercisin'?"

"My therapist says it's a good way to focus on myself," she said. "She subscribes to the wisdom that a healthy body is a healthy mind and vice versa. So I swim a lot, and I've taken up yoga, which is fun. And there's a lot of running involved in my day to day life anyway so..."

She finished with a shrug.

"You have a therapist?"

"Course I do," she said, watching Rose swim beneath the waterfall whilst she leaned back in the warm alcove. "I've had one since Tolandra. The Doctor took me."

Jackie looked at her. "S'pose he has some uses."

"More than some," Zoe said, lifting her foot out of the water. "I think you'd really like him if you gave him the chance."

Jackie spared her a sceptical look, and she just smiled.

"How's it going with that bloke of yours?" She asked as Rose swam back towards them, moving like a fish underwater. She remembered a toy shark fin Rose had been given for her birthday once and how they were nearly banned from the local pool because it had scared some younger children. "Howard, right?"

"It's fine," Jackie said, relieved to be talking about something normal even if she was doing it in a swimming pool on an alien space ship. "He's nice. Been around a bit more lately."

"Yeah, I noticed," she said. "Some of his things are in the flat."

"Does that bother you?"

Zoe shook her head. "Course not. As long as he makes you happy and he's not like the others, then I'm fine with it."

"Maybe you have the right of it," Jackie said. "Marryin' a woman."

She snorted. "Trust me, it's not easier because the other person is a woman."

Rose surfaced abruptly in front of them, and Zoe jumped.

"What we talkin' about?" She grinned, water streaming down her face, her blonde hair plastered to her skin.

"If it's easier to be in a relationship with a woman or a man," Zoe replied, contemplating kicking her sister's shin for scaring her but she decided against it as Rose looked happy.

"Oh." Rose blinked at them. "Is it?"

"Reinette's the only relationship I've ever had," she reminded both of them. "But it wasn't easy. We argued a lot, particularly in the early days. Most of that was my fault though. I was being a stubborn cow."

"You? Stubborn?" Her sister said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Well, I never."

Zoe did kick her.

"Ow!"

"It didn't hurt, you big baby."

"Mu-um!"

Jackie rolled her eyes even as she was filled with a wave of happiness. "Zoe, don't kick your sister."

"But –"

"Rose, don't tease your sister."

Rose looked momentarily sulky but it was soon swept off her face. "What did you an' Reinette argue about?"

"Silly things," Zoe said, tipping her head back and inhaling deeply. "We once didn't speak to each other for an entire day because we disagreed on whether or not to put milk in tea."

Jackie's mouth twitched. "Milk?"

"I thought tea should have milk, she disagreed and before either of us knew it we were arguing with each other," she said with a shrug, still confused about how the argument even happened. "And then there was the time I accidentally insulted a visiting dignitary because I got my words mixed up, and she thought I'd done it on purpose simply because I'd called him a pompous ass behind his back like five minutes earlier."

"Did you do it on purpose?" Rose asked curiously.

"No! Well...a little," she confessed. "In my defence, he _was_ a pompous ass. And a racist to boot."

Her sister grinned. "That's fine then."

"That's what I though," Zoe said before rolling her head across her shoulders and fixing Jackie with her deep brown eyes. "Can we meet him?"

"Who?"

"Howard."

Surprise rippled through her. "You want to?"

"Course, why wouldn't we?"

"You two have never liked any of my boyfriends in the past," Jackie pointed out, not unreasonably she thought.

"Yeah, but, Mum," Rose said, "all your boyfriends have been assholes. An' Howard seems all right. He's lasted longer than the others at any rate."

"How much trouble can a fruit and veg man be anyway?" Zoe asked. "We could have a family dinner. I'll make chicken, Rose can bake something, and Howard'll come over and we can interrogate him."

It sounded awful but Jackie wanted that more than anything.

"Send the boys down the pub or somethin'," Rose agreed. "Ooo, there's this new chocolate fudge cake recipe I've been wanting to try for a couple of weeks. I could make that."

"And I'm sure I can scrounge up a couple of decent bottles of wine," Zoe said, thinking that there was almost certainly a wine cellar on the TARDIS and that the only reason the Doctor hadn't shown her it was because he didn't want her to drink her way through it. "This'll be fun."

"For you," Jackie said, and Zoe grinned at her.

"Course for me," she laughed, and she leaned into her mother, wet arms pressing up against each other. Her eyes fell onto Rose. "And what were you and Mickey up to earlier? You two just took off."

Rose went red. "Just talkin'."

"I've heard that before," Jackie muttered, and the colour on Rose's cheeks darkened.

"We were!" She protested. "'Sides, we didn't get to finish talkin' because of everythin'. He's seein' Trisha Delaney though."

Zoe frowned. "Rob Delaney's sister?"

"That's the one."

"What's he doing with her?"

Rose shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Rosie," Jackie said gently. "You're worth ten of her."

"Didn't Trisha have it off with Mahmoud at the betting shop?" Zoe asked, still stuck on who Trisha Delaney was. "And then she was fired for it when Rob smashed the shop windows in?" Rose nodded. "What the hell is Mickey thinking? He can do better than Trisha. If he's not careful he'll get his legs broken."

Jackie coughed pointedly. Zoe looked to her and then looked to Rose whose expression had turned miserable.

"Oh, I – what I mean to say is that I'm sure it's nothing," Zoe fumbled quickly, feeling as though she was making the situation worse. "And once the two of you talk properly, things will sort themselves out."

"Thanks," Rose said dryly. "You're so comfortin'."

Zoe grimaced. "Sorry."

She tried to think of something better to say but was saved the effort of digging herself into an even deeper hole when Mickey stumbled into the room. Relief spread across his face when he saw them in the pool before he took in his surroundings, and his features turned slack with surprise.

"Woah." He gaped unattractively. "This is so cool."

"Want to join us?" Rose offered, cheeks still flushed.

He shook his head. "Er – the Doctor said he can't fix what's wrong and that the TARDIS is being a little bitch."

Zoe's eyebrows shot up on her forehead. "He said that?"

"I don't know," Mickey replied. "He's speaking another language so Jack translated a bit of it for me."

"Are we stuck here?" Jackie asked worriedly as the three of them emerged from the swimming pool.

"Even if we are, it's not a bad thing," Zoe reassured her. "We could spend the rest of our lives on the TARDIS and nothing bad would happen, but he'll figure it out. He always does."

Mickey waited for them whilst they dried themselves off and dressed again. Rose braided her wet hair into two plaits on either side of her head as they walked back to the console room. They entered to find the Doctor have a heated, one-sided argument with the TARDIS in a language that Zoe recognised as his native Gallifreyan. His arms gestured wildly, and he had a mallet in his hand that he shook threateningly at the console. Jack glanced at them when they entered and he seemed faintly amused by the scene unfolding in front of him.

"What's he sayin'?" Rose asked, eyeing the Doctor as though he was a wild animal.

"I'm not entirely sure," Jack admitted. "I'm getting about one word in fifty, but it seems to be just a stream of insults."

Zoe looked around at him, surprised. "You speak Gallifreyan?"

"It's in the same language family as Asgardian," he said. "And I speak some of that."

"Oh," she said, impressed nonetheless. She raised her voice. "Doctor!"

He stopped mid-insult and spun on his heel. He looked deeply unhappy. "The TARDIS is fine. There's absolutely nothing wrong with her except an _attitude problem._ "

He yelled those words over his shoulder.

"She's not going to move until we've gone out and explored," he explained. "We've been brought here for a reason, and she's not shifting until we find out why."

"You do choose your moments, don't you?" Zoe said, rubbing at the console. "So this wasn't my fault then?"

"No." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We would have come here regardless of who was driving because my ship clearly doesn't know how to do as she is told."

Jack hid a smile. "Do you at least know where we are?"

"Nope."

" _When_ we are?"

"Nope."

"Well, I do love an adventure," Jack said. "I'm going to grab a coat. Rosie, you might want to dry your hair. It's snowing outside."

"Actually," the Doctor said before Rose could leave, "I thought maybe the girls should stay here and the three of us –" he gestured at Jack and Mickey "could go and find out what's happening."

Zoe stared at him, unimpressed. "Come again?"

"Your mum's here," he told her, glancing at Jackie. "And who knows what's out there. The TARDIS wouldn't have brought us here if it was just a run of the mill planet. Something's happening here and it's probably something dangerous."

Zoe hesitated. She wanted to explore but she also understood his point. Disappointment started to seep through her when –

"I'll come," Jackie said, and they all turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry?" The Doctor frowned.

"I'll come."

"Jackie, I'm not sure –"

"Mum, is this a good idea?"

Zoe and the Doctor talked over each other.

"I'll need a coat though," Jackie said, and Rose, who was staring at her mother in surprise, jerked.

"I'll take you to the wardrobe," she said. "An' then dry my hair."

"We'll be back in ten," Jack promised them, and Mickey followed as he was in need of a coat as well, leaving the Doctor and Zoe alone together.

"This is a bad idea," he said.

"Horrifically bad," she agreed. "But do you want to tell her she can't come?"

He grimaced.

* * *

Once everyone was appropriately outfitted for the cold weather they set off through the dense jungle and soon found themselves struggling through thick branches and tangled vines that looked out of place amongst all the snow. Zoe followed at the very back of the group to make sure that no one fell behind and so didn't have to force herself through gaps her friends and family created in the foliage. Her experience was that of a pleasant stroll that was occasionally interrupted by the muffled cursing of the Doctor and Jack as they tried to cut through the thicket of jungle foliage. She smiled to herself whenever she heard them, amused by the irritation in their voices and their back and forth bickering.

" _Don't touch that it's poisonous."_

" _Don't tell me at the last second, Doctor, Christ!"_

" _I didn't see it until then."_

" _Sure you didn't."_

" _I didn't!"_

More than once she felt that predatory eyes of creatures were tracking their movements. The feeling sent shivers down her spine and made her stomach tighten with anxiety. She was reminded of the jungle on Planet One. There the heat was sweltering and thick but the jungle was just as difficult to move through, if not harder because of the climate. She longed for the comforting weight of a machete in her hand so that she would have more than her good intentions about her.

The temperature was so cold that the leaves on the trees were frozen solid and when they brushed up against them, they cracked and shattered on their stems. They tramped across the jungle's floor, which was stiff with ice but free of snow as the coverage of the trees was just enough shelter to ensure that the snowfall didn't coat the earth. On the bright side, the long walk the Doctor was leading them on meant that she was getting a fair amount of exercise, and it kept the her from feeling the cold as much as she might have done. She kept a close eye on Jackie who was unused to such strenuous activity and her mother occasionally grabbed hold of Rose to help pull herself forward but she didn't complain, even though it was clear she wasn't enjoying herself. Jackie glanced back occasionally and, when she did, Zoe smiled at her.

After what seemed to be hours of walking, they reached a break in the trees and the Doctor looked around curiously.

"Any idea where we are yet?" Rose asked, her cheeks flushed pink and her nose red.

"Nope," he said, but he didn't sound upset at not knowing. "Bit of a mystery, one might say."

"Look at you," she teased. "Happy as a kid at Christmas."

"Do love a good mystery, me," he said. "Everyone doing okay still? Jackie?"

"I thought there'd be more runnin'," Jackie said, and she was beginning to look tired but was holding up well under the unusual circumstances. "The girls make it sound like there's a lot of runnin'."

He grinned. "Only if we're lucky."

They continued on their trek through the jungle and small animals scuttled through the foliage whilst birds called out overhead. Zoe saw one large, glistening snake wind its way slowly around the trunk of a tree, and she pressed through her mother and Rose, sidestepped Mickey, ducked under Jack's arm and spent the next ten minutes walking on top of the Doctor for fear of seeing another one. If he minded the fact that she was pressing against his heels, fist wound into the back of his jacket, he didn't say anything. He kept himself busy by scanning the area for local technology.

"Finally!" He exclaimed, and she jumped in surprise as everyone came to a stop. "I've got something."

He turned on his heel and pointed south-west.

"This way," he instructed. "No wonder I wasn't picking anything up. It's such a weak signal. There's barely anything there."

"Why would that pull us off course?" Jack asked, wiping his forearm across his brow. "When I wanted your attention with the Chula ambulance, it took me hours to make the signal strong enough to bother the TARDIS systems."

"I don't think it did pull us off course," the Doctor said, leading them through the jungle once more. "The TARDIS brought us here herself, which means that something is going to happen or has happened or is happening right now."

Mickey looked confused. "Does that make sense to anyone else but you?"

"Zoe," he said over his shoulder.

She sighed but kept one eye peeled for more snakes. "The TARDIS is a time ship and she's sentient, which means that she can see all possible time lines just like the Doctor. Although, she can see more outcomes than he can because she's got a stronger processor."

Jack snorted. "So the Doctor's got a small brain?"

"Oi!"

"In comparison to the TARDIS, yes," Zoe smiled. "The point is that the TARDIS is extra sensitive to things like paradoxes and people messing with the timelines. So, since she's brought us here without so much as a by-your-leave, it's reasonable to assume that something is amiss and we need to fix it. But this thing could already have happened, or it is happening, or it will happen. Like her pilot, she's not great with landing on time."

"Again – _oi!_ "

"No offence," she said as something of an afterthought.

"Some taken."

The jungle grew denser and more uncooperative the deeper they delved into it. She had never known anything like. The Gamma Forests were dark and dense but there was enough space to slip bodies through and find pathways created by the creatures that lived within but there was no such give where they were. They had to climb around trees and jump over twisted stumps that looked as though they'd been burned away as they rose up like monoliths out of the ground. Even the Doctor was finding it difficult to move when he saw a clearing up ahead. He forced his body through with a grunt and pulled the others out of the jungle one by one.

"Jesus," Jackie exhaled heavily, face bright red and sweat making her hairline dark. "That was awful. I can't feel my feet."

"Take a seat," the Doctor advised, glancing around the unexpectedly large clearing. Zoe walked out into it, her coat unzipped and fanning her shirt to get some air to her skin. "I want to have a scan before –"

His words were snatched from him when Zoe screamed. He whipped around to watch as the ground gave way beneath her feet and she plummeted out of sight.

"ZOE!"

She hit the ground hard.

The back of her head cracked against the concrete floor when her knees gave way beneath her and she lost her vision for a few long dizzying moments. The breath was forced from her lungs and her mouth yawned as she struggled for it again. Dust and debris fell on top of her, partially burying her in soil, and she spat it from her mouth once she regained some sense of self and the initial bloom of pain faded into throbbing awareness of her injuries.

That had _hurt._

"Zoe!" The Doctor yelled. She could distantly hear her friends and family scrabbling above her but the rushing throb of her blood deafened her to most of the panic. "Zoe! Say something! I can't see her. Jack, do you have –?"

"I see her!" Mickey exclaimed, and his head was visible over the ragged edge of the hole that had swallowed Zoe up and spat her out. "Zoe, are you okay?"

She coughed and moved her arms carefully, dislodging the debris as she did so. Mickey was unceremoniously shoved out of the way, and the Doctor's face appeared.

"Zoe!" He called down to her. "Talk to me. Are you okay?"

"Ow," she groaned, long and low. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," he replied, relieved that she was speaking. "Can you move?"

She wasn't sure. "Maybe. I don't know. God, this feels like I've been thrown off a horse – _again_."

"You can ride a horse now?" The Doctor asked curiously before shaking his head. "Never mind. Not important. Don't move. I'm coming down."

"That's a stupid idea!" She called out to him, getting her breath back, but she still didn't move.

The sharp flares of pain had dulled to a painful ache. The last time she had ended up on her back and in pain, she was in France. Half of her expected Louis to come sprinting to her rescue, torn between concern and laughter; instead, the Doctor ignored her and jumped in through the hole in the ceiling. He landed lightly on his feet near her and knelt at her side.

He smiled down at her. "Hi."

"Why did you do that, you idiot?" She complained. "Now we're both stuck."

"Stuck together though," he said with a crooked smile, "so it's not all bad."

She groaned and closed her eyes. "If you're going to get sentimental, I'm going to puke."

He laughed softly before reaching out to touch her. "Where are you hurt?"

"My head and my knees," she muttered, opening her eyes again and staring down at his closely shaven head as he bent over to check on her. "Doctor?"

"Hmm?"

"The floor's concrete."

"Yes, I noticed that as well," he said. "Rather unusual, I think."

"It is that," she agreed, her mouth tacky.

Whilst he ran his screwdriver over her, she looked around and took in what she could see of the room, illuminated as it was by the large hole above their heads. Dust and cobwebs clung to every surface of the dark room. It looked as though it had long since been abandoned. The door in the corner that led out deeper into the underground facility was ajar; she could see across the filthy floor and she saw how the dust and detritus of years had accumulated on either side of the frame. It hadn't been opened or closed in years. She ran her eyes upwards, her eyes drifting over the walls and the side of the tables nearest her. On top of them, square, boxy computers. It reminded her of the NASA mission control room: rows and rows of computers all facing towards one large screen at the front of the room. She was lucky that she had landed on the floor rather than one of those as her spine would not have survived the impact.

She tested the use of her arms by reaching up and dragging her finger across the surface of the desk nearest to her. She pulled it away and looked at the pad of her finger. It was coated with a thick layer of dark dust. She brushed it off on her thigh. Whatever purpose the room had once fulfilled was long forgotten. Everything was shutdown and left to gather dust.

"Good news is that we won't have to amputate," the Doctor said, and her eyes snapped back to him. He slipped his screwdriver back into his pocket. She raised her eyebrows at him. "You might be limping for a while though, and you definitely have a concussion. Sit up slowly now."

She did as she was told and sat up slowly, her head throbbing and flaring with pain as she did so, but he helped her. She leant into him and rested her forehead on his shoulder as he delicately touched the back of her head. He hummed a soft tune as he did something she couldn't see to the raw bruise that bloomed across her skull and the throbbing eased. The pain was chased away and she looked up at him.

"What was that?"

"A little Time Lord trick," he said, withdrawing her hands and tucking his glowing fingers out of her sight, letting the regeneration energy fade before she saw it. "Feel better?"

"Much," she said. He helped her to her feet. "This place looks abandoned."

"Either that or they've really let the cleaning slide," he said, and she huffed a laugh.

"Is everything okay down there?" Rose yelled down to them.

"Zoe's fine!" The Doctor called back. "Just stay back from the edge. We'll be up as soon as we can."

He trusted Jack to make sure that none of them strayed too close.

"Do you recognise the technology?"

"No," he said, moving away from her side to examine it more closely. "But that doesn't mean much. Most technology goes through similar stages. It only starts branching off when it gets more advanced."

Zoe slowly walked around the room to stretch the pain of her fall out of her body. She ignored the Doctor behind her; he was thinking out loud as he mashed at the buttons of the computers to try and activate them. She peeked through the gap in the door and opened a few drawers. There were old, dusty notebooks inside and she withdrew them to look through them. The paper was old and stiff. It crumbled beneath her touch and the ink on the page was faded with the passage of time; mathematics formulae filled most of the pages with a few physics equations dotted here and there. Languages may differ from planet to planet but mathematics was reassuringly common to all.

She opened what she thought was a closet door only to slam it shut again, a gasp of terror and surprise filling her throat.

The Doctor was at her side in moments. "What? What is it?"

"There is something incredibly fucking terrifying behind this door," Zoe said, her heart pounding loudly in her chest. "It's...I don't know. It's a weird metal thing with a mask. Like a robot but not."

"Let's see then," the Doctor said, and though her fingers were stiff from the sudden pulse of fear through her body.

She gripped the handle of the door and pulled it open.

The Doctor tensed at her side. "Impossible."

"What is it?" Zoe asked, eyeing the creature inside, feeling less afraid with the Doctor next to her.

"We need to get out of here now," he said, and she turned in surprise at the tone of his voice.

She had only heard him sound like that once before and she felt as though she was once again standing in the elevator within Van Statten's bunker listening to him explain just what a Dalek was.

Her heart trip over itself in her fear. "Doctor?"

He took hold of her hand and pulled her away from the supply closet. The door shut behind them, and he pointed his screwdriver at it, sealing the lock before he dropped to his knee beneath the gap in the ceiling. He linked his hands together and looked up at her. He and Louis bled together in her mind for a moment before she pushed the old memory away. She stared down at him, not quite comprehending.

" _Now,_ Zoe, we need to leave now."

Instead of arguing with him or pushing him for answers, she just did as she was told and stepped into his hand and let him propel her up towards the hole in the ceiling. She grasped hold of the edge and pulled herself out of the underground room, her arms straining as she clawed along the dirt, her feet kicking uselessly in the air as they tried to find something to push against.

"Zoe, don't!" Jack yelled a warning to her, and she heard Jackie scream when something grabbed hold of her by the front of her jumper and lifted.

A gasp was pulled from her throat as she was held off of the ground in the space above the hole; the Doctor was yelling something, and Jack was dragging the others to safety as more of the creatures spilled out from the trees and filled the area.

"Run!" Zoe screamed to Jack, who was staring at her in anguish for how little he could help her; and to the Doctor who had a chance of getting away if he would just move. " _Run!_ "

"Zoe!" The Doctor cried, panicked, as Jack grabbed hold of Mickey and threw him into the jungle before taking off after him.

"Doctor, run!"

Her feet kicked uselessly at the terrifying metal man as a hand came up and rested on the top of her head, covering it in its entirety. Fear surged through her, and she kicked again but her boots made no difference. She screamed as electricity coursed through her body.

Her body turned limp as blackness stole over her.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter Forty-Eight**

Flashes of images passed across Zoe's vision in a blurred haze as she swam in and out of consciousness. She was slung over the shoulder of the metal man, the press of a rounded joint into her stomach making her muscles ache but there was nothing she could do about it as it moved through the forest with ease. A whimper left her mouth, and she slipped out of consciousness again. When she awoke fully, her head throbbed with agony and her mouth was slick with bile. She was strapped to an uncomfortable metal table. Her body resisted weakly, arms pulling against the restraints, but she felt as weak as a she had done when she was sick with cholera. Her teeth vibrated with the after effects of the electricity and her jaw ached from where she had clenched it tightly, narrowly avoiding biting her tongue off. She could taste blood in her mouth, and the iron tang made her stomach churn. She prodded at the inside of her mouth and found that she had bitten down on her cheek when electrocuted. The moist flesh was loose and tender.

She slumped back against the table, too weak to break free, and she twisted and turned her neck to try and see where she was.

It looked like a laboratory of sorts. There were stasis pods lining the walls all around her but she couldn't see into them as the glass was frosted over. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to see what was contained within. There was a sharp metallic smell in the air that she recognised as blood and, after a moment's panic where she tried to see if she was bleeding, the creaking wheel of a trolley caught her attention. Her eyes went wide as a trolley with an ape-like creature was wheeled out of a surgical room, the doors swinging shut behind it, the stench of blood and failure spilling out towards her. Its chest was opened and its organs burned away. A strange metal contraption was fixed around where the heart should be and its eyes were open and dull, mouth stretched wide in agony. Her stomach churned, and she clamped her eyes shut, dragging Reinette's face before her so that she didn't vomit the contents of her stomach over the floor.

She strained again against her restraints. She knew the Doctor would come for her, or Jack if he was able to get everyone back to the TARDIS and she hoped that they were okay, but she also wasn't the type to wait around for someone to rescue her.

A shadow fell over her, and she immediately stilled.

With her heart pounding in her chest, she lifted her eyes up – one of the creatures stood above her. The sight of it was like something out of her nightmares. It wore a silver suit that reminded her of tinfoil, although it stretched rather than crinkled. There was a large square box attached to its chest with panels that appeared to access a computer system that was built into the suit or the technology that dove beneath the surface of the body. She wasn't sure if there was flesh and blood beneath the suit at all but she feared that there was. The one thing that she found most terrifying of all was its face. A white cotton mask was pulled down over it, and it stretched to fit the features beneath: square lips and dark, empty eyes that just stared at her.

She swallowed back her fear.

"Who are you?" Zoe demanded. Her voice shook. "What do you want with me?"

When it spoke, its voice was automated and electronic. She was abruptly reminded of the Daleks and that did not help to quell her fear.

"You are compatible."

"I've heard that before," she said, straining against the restraints uselessly, wriggling her wrists and only achieving chafing. "And I like it even less now than then." She gave up and looked up at the strange creature. "My name is Zoe, Zoe Tyler. I'm travelling with someone who you really don't want to piss off. Best if you just let me go, yeah? Before my friend gets here."

It ignored her. "You will be upgraded."

"I'll be what now?" She asked, and her eyes focused on a tray of surgical instruments that came her way in the gloved hands of one of the creatures. They hadn't even cleaned them from the last use, blood still glistened on the sharpened blades. She tried to pull back but she couldn't move. "Oh, no. No, thank you. I'm happy the way I am."

"You will help us conquer Earth."

"How the hell did we get from being upgraded to conquering Earth?" She demanded, her entire body wriggling to try and keep away from the slowly raising surgical knife. "It's a bit of a leap, and I really don't think I'll be good at it anyway. Earth's my home, and I'm pretty sure I don't want you to conquer it."

"You are of Time."

"That makes no sense," Zoe told them with the thought that if she kept them talking then it would give the Doctor a little longer to get to her, or it would give her the chance to wrestle herself free of the frankly impressive restraints she was under. "We're all of Time."

"You move through Time."

"Oh, I'm a time traveller, you mean?" She replied, eyeballing the scalpel. "Yeah, I am. How's that going to help you conquer Earth?"

"You will lead us through the Untempered Schism."

"The - _what_?" Her body went still. That was a name she hadn't heard in years. "The Untempered Schism? Is that what you said?"

"And the Cybermen will be reborn."

A scalpel with blood that still oozed from it was raised above her sternum. The blood was cold when it dripped onto her skin.

"The Cyber-what?" She asked and though it had been a while since she watched TV, if there was one thing she knew then that was Star Trek and the similarities struck her like the force of an explosion. "Oh my God, you're the Borg. That's what you are. Artificial-biological lifeforms bent on assimilating people to improve them, right? Am I Picard in this situation? Are you trying to turn me into a Locutus? Because I really, _really,_ don't want that."

The knife pressed down against her skin and the pressure made her yelp.

"Get off me!" She cried, voice rising into a panicked pitch. She convulsed her body in every direction she could in order to try and get out from under the knife. "Would anaesthetic be a little too much to fucking ask for?"

The scalpel sliced into her skin at the exact moment the room exploded. The force of the explosion rocked the table she was strapped to, and she cried out as debris flew past her, dust and mortar wrapping around her. The Cybermen were thrown off their feet and the scalpel came to rest on her chest, a thin line of blood pushing to the surface. She thrust her shoulders back and chest up, trying to direct the angle of the scalpel's fall into her hand. It clattered uselessly to the floor. She cursed, loudly and with feeling.

"Language," the Doctor chided, appearing at her side out of the smoky remains of the wall and relief flooded her.

She stared up at him. "Hi."

"Hello," he said, smiling down at her, the expression tight on his face. "How you doing?"

"They were going to assimilate me," she said because there were a lot of thoughts in her head and that was the one that left her mouth first.

"Still not Star Trek, but a surprisingly adept comparison nonetheless," he said, freeing her from the restraints. She rolled off the table and her knees buckled but she gripped hold of his arm and shoulder and heaved herself up, forcing strength back into her limbs. "Can you run?"

"Always," she promised him, and he grabbed her hand.

"Then run!"

She stumbled over the detritus of the wall but her hand was firmly grasped within the Doctor's. Once they broke free of the building, they ran through the dense thicket of the jungle on a path made by the Cybermen.

Branches were swinging in the stiff breeze, broken in half and hanging onto the trees by threads; the undergrowth was disturbed and flattened by heavy metal feet. There was a distinct and worrying lack of animals on the path. Not even birds sang in the leafy coverage above them. The Doctor kept hold of Zoe's hand as they ran. It took a while for her to get her legs fully under her as the effects of her electrocution made themselves known in her body. Her head was in agony, and the pain was exacerbated by the pulse of blood through her temple, her heart beating rapidly as she pushed herself onwards. They eventually had to stop when she stumbled and fell to the ground, wrenching her hand out of his grasp to break her fall.

Her knees jarred painfully, and her teeth clacked together.

"You're okay," the Doctor instantly said, crouching in front of her and scooping her back to her knees.

She clutched at his shoulders and panted heavily. "Stop. I just need...stop."

"Okay, okay," he reassured her, glancing around with sharp eyes. "We should be okay for a few minutes."

Her body was shaking, and she collapsed into the Doctor. Her forehead rested on his shoulder, and her fingers clenched and unclenched in his jumper. A wave of pain hit her, and she gritted her teeth against it as a low, growling sound rolled from her throat. He murmured something into her hair that she couldn't hear over the sound of the blood in her ears. It wasn't the worst pain she had ever felt. That belonged to the moment Reinette slipped from the world. That single moment where it had felt a thousand times worse than her torture on Tolandra and the electricity coursing through her body.

It was still agonising though.

"Here," the Doctor said, and his hand disappeared into the pocket of his jacket. He removed a squished tube of something and squeezed some blue gel onto his fingers before he applied them to her temples. "Let me."

A groan of relief left her mouth as he massaged the gel into her temples, and her headache was slowly chased away. Her body started to lose its posture, and she ended up slumped against him, half curled into his chest, as he chased the pain away.

"What is that?" She asked around breathless sigh, murmuring into his chest.

"Temporary pain relief," the Doctor said. "I got some fierce headaches after the War. This helped."

"It's magic," she whispered, and she felt him smile against the top of her head.

"Medicine."

"Same thing," she said when she could think clearly again. "What the hell were those things?"

"Cybermen," he said, wiping his fingers off on his jacket before shifting so that he could sit against a tree trunk. Her body moved with him. She was unusually pliant as she sat between his legs and rested against his chest whilst the gel took effect and she caught her breath. "An old, old enemy. I thought they were all dead. I have no idea how we're here though."

"Where's here?"

"Mondas," he said. "The home planet of the Cybermen. It was destroyed years ago though, long before the War. We shouldn't be able to be here. It was Time Locked."

"How could the TARDIS have brought us here then?"

"I have no idea," the Doctor replied, rubbing her arm reassuringly. "It's not impossible for her to break Time Locks but it usually requires me at the controls actively doing it."

"Why was it Time Locked in the first place?" She asked, rubbing at her nose that felt a little numb. "I thought only big things like the War were Time Locked."

"The High Council, in one of the few instances where my people actually interfered for good reasons," he explained. "When Mondas was destroyed, there were still Cybermen out in the universe. They got hold of time travel and were trying to undo the destruction by wreaking more destruction. There were so many debates on Gallifrey whether or not we should do something, and there was a vote and the majority won, so the president – Niroc – who, coincidentally was an agent of the CIA –"

"Huh?"

"Celestial Intervention Agency," he said, and she nodded, bewildered. "Anyway, he Time Locked Mondas to protect the Web of Time."

"Oh," she said, a little overwhelmed by the unexpected history lesson. "Well, there's a bigger problem than all of that."

"Really?" He asked, disappointed. "I was kind of hoping this was it."

"When is it ever just one thing with us?"

"Good point," he said. "What's the bigger problem?"

She sat up a little, testing her strength. There were more important things to deal with that her sore head. "When they had me, they mentioned the Untempered Schism."

His reaction was as immediate and focused as she had expected.

"What?" He said sharply.

She turned awkwardly to face him, bracing her hand on his thigh to support the move.

"They said they were going to use the Untempered Schism to reach Earth," she repeated what she had been told. "Years ago you told me there was one on Gallifrey -"

"Not one, _the,"_ he interrupted. "There was only one Untempered Schism and that was destroyed when Gallifrey was destroyed."

Zoe swallowed against the dry, metallic mouth taste in her mouth as she tried to remember conversations she had had years before with him. "You told me that the Schism was a tear in the fabric of space and time...is it even capable of being destroyed? Could it not have moved?"

"Maybe, possibly, I don't know," the Doctor said, expression troubled. "I want you to go back to the TARDIS. I need to find out what's going on here."

"I'm not leaving you alone," Zoe said.

"I can't do this and worry about you at the same time!"

"You don't get to send me away when you're scared!" She argued with a frown. "That's not what we do."

"Zoe -" he started.

"No!"

"Whatever this is – finding it out isn't worth your life!"

"Nor yours!" Zoe replied fiercely before taking a breath and deliberately softening her tone so they weren't yelling at each other. "Look, the last time we were separated it was for six years. We do better when we work together."

He looked torn. On the one hand, he would appreciate her help. On the other, the fear of what might happen to her made him sick. "Zoe..."

"Together," she said, "or not at all."

He sighed, both annoyed and touched. "Why do you have to be so _human_?"

"I can't help that," she said with a slight smile before squeezing his thigh. "Now can we save our domestic for later? We are in the middle of danger here."

She made an excellent point.

"Together then," he agreed, and he helped her to her feet once more.

"Besides," she said, "ten quid that Jack comes riding to our rescue at some point."

The Doctor snorted.

* * *

It grew darker as the sun sank over the horizon and darkness began to close in. It made the jungle seem like a more terrifying place. She wished that her phone was working so she could call Rose and make sure that they were okay but the circuitry had been fried by the electrical current that had rendered her unconscious. It was a loss as she loved her phone but there was little use crying over it. Instead, she dipped her hand into the pocket of the Doctor's jacket and searched for the torch that she knew he kept there. She found it beneath a bag of jelly babies. She turned the torch on as she popped an orange jelly baby into her mouth to chase away the dry, metallic taste that lingered there. She pulled a face: it was stale but it was better than nothing. As saliva flooded back into her mouth and a small hit of sugar entered her system, she looked at the Doctor's broad back.

"What are these Cybermen then?" She asked, climbing over a rock and taking hold of his proffered hand to help her over the last bit. "I don't think you've mentioned them before."

"They're a race of cybernetically modified humanoids intent on upgrading those that they consider inferior to them," he said, steadying her when she stumbled a little.

"So like the Borg."

"No, well, actually, a little bit," he admitted, helping her down the other side of the rocks and she brushed her hair from her face. "They originated here on Mondas a millennia ago, but you'd be surprised at how many other species have followed the same evolutionary pattern. It's a repeating causality: the same design again and again throughout the ages."

Zoe understood. "Like all the different versions of Cinderella on Earth."

"Exactly,"he said before holding out a hand to stop her moving any further.

They had finally come to the edge of the jungle and a cliff face dropped abruptly beneath them, the ground giving way to a vast expanse of emptiness that made Zoe's stomach swoop with fear. They were surrounded by tall, snow-capped mountains that stretched high up into the darkening sky where the stars were beginning to peek through, one by one, and the moons were heavy and full above their heads. The Doctor peered over the edge before pulling back and looking for a way down. He found one after a few minutes of poking around and Zoe, never the greatest fan of heights, kept her distance from the edge.

"Keep close to the wall," the Doctor warned her as though she would do anything different. "And step where I step."

"Copy that," she said with trepidation, and they carefully stepped onto the narrow path that wound its way down the mountain, hidden behind a snow covered rock. In an effort to keep her mind of the sheer plunge, she continued their conversation. "So - er - why did they modify themselves? Were they seeking perfection?"

"Survival," he said. "The Modasians were dying. It was a natural evolutionary process but they didn't accept that, so they started to replace parts of themselves with technology to live longer. Eventually, every citizen of Mondas became what you saw earlier."

"Surely the race would die out anyway," she said, hand shaking, the torchlight dancing from her fear. "It didn't look like they were capable of making babies, at least not in the traditional sense."

"Firstly, that's a very narrow human perspective on procreation," the Doctor said, his foot slipping out from underneath him; Zoe's stomach dropped even as her free hand stretched out to catch him but he righted himself without her help. "Careful there. Secondly, they upgrade species similar to them. The Daleks, now the Daleks view all other species as inferior to them and so need to be exterminated, but the Cybermen see future generations of Cybermen to be upgraded."

"Upgraded," Zoe repeated. "That's what they said to me. They said I was going to be upgraded to help them invade Earth."

"They're stuck on that old chestnut again?" He sighed. "Honestly, it seems like all their plans revolve around invading Earth. Your planet, it's very jeopardy friendly."

"Got to be famous for something, I suppose," she said, breathing a little easier as the path widened the further they inched down the mountainside. "You stopped them before, right?"

"Right," he said. "A couple of times actually."

"How did you stop them?"

"Good question, wish I could remember," he said. He glanced over his shoulder at her to make sure she was doing all right and caught sight of her expression. "Oi, don't give me that look. It's been a few hundred years and the War in between, memory's not what it used to be. Although, now that I think about it, I did regenerate the last time I was here. Maybe. Did I regenerate here? You know, I can't really remember. Rassilon, am I getting old?"

"Can we please not talk about your regeneration, or lack thereof?" She asked him, uncomfortable with the subject of his quasi-death. She pointed her finger to a spot in front of him. "Focus."

"Right, yeah, course," the Doctor nodded, turning back around to watch where he put his feet. "First thing we need to do is figure out whether or not the Untempered Schism is actually here on Mondas."

"Tell me more about that," Zoe requested, her thigh muscles burning with the exercise. "You told me that initiates to the Academy were taken to stand before it, but why?"

"Tradition, mainly," he said. "And I suppose it formed a psychological test of sorts, but direct exposure to the Time Vortex helped to develop our time senses and other abilities. Our close proximity to it over billions of years led to our ability to regenerate, and all Gallifreyans could regenerate but not all had time senses. Those who passed the exams at age six were taken for initiation two years later. It was through looking into the heart of the Vortex that we discovered Time: it's what made Time Lords, Time Lords. It can be done in other ways – a group of Gallifreyans activated their time senses through meditation a few thousand years ago, but my people did enjoy their traditions."

He sounded bitter about that.

"Did it hurt?" She asked quietly.

"It was agony," he confessed, pausing on the path to perform another scan.

She looked down at him, sorry for the little boy he had been all those years ago. "I'm sorry."

He blinked up at her. "It was centuries ago."

"Still," she said, resting her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Humans," he said fondly, "always apologising for things that aren't your fault."

"You said Mondas was destroyed," Zoe said, wiping the cold sweat from her brow and wishing for a drink of water before they continued on their path. "If the Untempered Schism is here does that mean the Time Lock is broken?"

"Possibly," he replied, "but more likely the presence of the Schism is causing Time to go -"

"Wibbley-wobbley?"

"Where do you pick this stuff up?" He asked, exasperated, and she laughed.

"You, of course," she said and he pulled a face.

"I dread to think," he replied, and they edged around the face of the mountain, Zoe's eyes on her feet and, for one moment, she thought the sky was beneath her.

The Doctor sucked in a sharp breath and she looked up.

"Oh my god."

Spread out below them like a painted canvas was the universe. Stars shone brightly from within the inky black darkness and galaxies spilled out like upturned paint cans. The edges of it was bright white and tumbled together like a lightening storm that didn't know how to break free. It was remarkable and the most beautiful thing Zoe had ever seen. She made a small sound in her throat and tipped forward, wanting to get closer, but the Doctor pulled her back and covered her eyes with his hand, a harsh whisper in her ear.

"Don't look."

"Is that -?" She asked breathlessly, stars imprinted beneath her eyes. She wanted to look again but the Doctor's arms were steel around her, his hand pressing her face into his chest.

"Yes," he said, and she felt him moving, searching for something in his pockets.

"I want -"

"If you look into it, you'll lose your mind," the Doctor warned her gravely, and his fingers curled around what he was looking for.

He removed the sunglasses from his pocket and kept her trapped against him, arm curled around her head as he sonicked the shades of the sunglasses to protect her mind from the glare of the untempered universe. He pulled back from her and caught her by her chin before she turned, forcing the glasses onto her face. Normally he would trust her to do as he said but the draw of the Untempered Schism was so strong that he removed a tube of superglue from his pocket and glued the glasses to her face. By the time she forced them off her skin, he could reach her and stop her.

"Stop it," he said, batting her hands away.

"You glued glasses to my face."

"I can get them off," he assured her. "But I'd rather your mind not be soup, if it's all the same to you. How do you feel?"

"Like I'm drunk," she said. "Except...not drunk. You know that feeling you get when you've had a couple of drinks and then you get an idea and it seems like a really good idea?"

"Yeah."

"I feel like that," Zoe said, swallowing. "But I'll be okay."

"You sure?" He asked, uncertain.

"Doctor, I'm practically French," she reminded him. "I'm pretty sure I existed in a state of low level drunkenness for six years. I can handle this."

"If it gets too much -"

"I'll tell you," she promised. "No brain soup. I promise."

He slowly and reluctantly released her. She took a step back from him and turned her head to look back down. The urge to look was still there but it was dampened by whatever the Doctor had done to the sunglasses glued to her face. She was familiar with the urge to do something she shouldn't, and she kept it locked away inside of her as she took in the magnificent sight in front of her. Sometimes, though less frequently since her return from France, she was reminded of how lucky she was.

How many humans got to see something as remarkable as the universe spread out before them?

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say the Untempered Schism shouldn't look like that," Zoe said, eventually finding her words.

"It really shouldn't," he said, screwdriver held out cautiously over the edge. "On Gallifrey, it was carefully controlled with a Rassilon circlet, which helped to focus and steady it."

By comparison, on Mondas, it was spilling open and ripping the land apart. It looked like the universe was trying to press up through the earth, and he was terrified at having Zoe so close to it. He was also glad that she couldn't hear it. Her human senses were not developed enough to hear what he could hear but Time was screaming and wailing as though being tortured. Something was dangerously wrong with the Untempered Schism and he would bet his jacket on it being in the wrong place. The Schism had developed naturally on Gallifrey millennia before life even formed on the planet. To have it wrenched from its position was something not even the brightest minds of his people had considered.

"I need to get closer."

" _We,"_ she corrected him. "And why?"

"I need more accurate readings," he said, scowling at his screwdriver. "This isn't powerful enough."

"Can you do anything with this?" She asked, withdrawing her broken phone and holding it out to him. "It's not working any more but maybe the battery can be used to boost the power on the sonic screwdriver?"

"Actually – yes," he said, fingers brushing hers as he took it from her. "Good idea."

"I'm full of them," she said, looking back out over the Untempered Schism as he worked. "Your Time Tots looked into this?"

"Not the Time Tots," the Doctor replied, pulling her phone apart and wrapping some copper wire that he had spare in the bottom of his pocket around it to conduct the electric charge through the two devices. "But eight-year-old children? Yeah."

"Did you not have child protective services on Gallifrey?" She asked, and there was a creeping hint of disdain for his people that she wasn't quite quick enough to hide.

"Not really," he said, distracted. "Stay here."

"Doctor -" she said warningly.

"It'll be quicker if I do it myself," the Doctor said. "I won't be long."

She frowned. "You better not be."

She watched him dart off, wondering if that was how Reinette felt when she watched Zoe slip in and out of the fireplace and her life before she settled down with her. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger as she waited.

Down below, it was worse than the Doctor imagined but better than he hoped. The Time Lock remained intact, which meant that the Time War was contained, but the big glaring problem was that the Untempered Schism had been pushed out of the Time Lock, which should never have happened. The destruction of the Rassilon circlet must have broken the connection Rassilon put in place thousands of years before and left it whipping through space like an unstable wormhole. He theorised – and it was only a theory because there was no way to verify it – that it must have crashed into Mondas and settled whilst remaining unstable. It accounted for its ragged, heaving appearance.

It also explained why the TARDIS had brought them there.

He wasn't sure how to fix the problem though. Rassilon and Omega had worked on containing the Schism together but the knowledge of how it was done was lost to the ages. It didn't help that the Cybermen were performing experiments on it either. Why wouldn't they? A great big unexplainable rip in the fabric of space and time appeared in their back garden, of course they would perform experiments. He was only slightly concerned about the information that Zoe relayed to him about using the Untempered Schism to travel to Earth. It was impossible to travel via the Schism. So impossible, in fact, that it was once used as a method of execution during the Dark Ages on Gallifrey. People were torn apart the moment they touched the unfiltered power of the universe, their atoms turned to dust as they were erased from all of existence.

With a suddenness and a fierceness that surprised him, he found himself missing Brax.

His brother would have known of some way to go about fixing the problem, or at least be able to find the solution in his library. For all of the resentment that had built up between them over the years, the Doctor did admire his brother's ability to see right through to the heart of a problem and analyse the possible solutions. It was something that he sorely needed in that moment, and he was certain that somewhere and somewhen, Brax was laughing and he didn't know why.

He finished his scan and made his way back up the mountain as quickly as he could. Zoe had an innate curiosity that normally he loved. However, he was concerned what she might do if left alone too long. As it was, when he reached her again, she was facing the mountain wall and pulling at the glasses on her face. Her skin was stretching as she did so but she wasn't trying to wrench them free, more as if she was testing the hold.

"Stop that," the Doctor said, reaching for her hand, but she dropped it from her face like a naughty child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"What's the prognosis, Doc?" She asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"It's bad," he admitted. "Although, the good news is the Time Lock is still in place so we don't have to worry about the Time War spilling back out into the universe."

"Good."

"The bad news is I have no idea how to contain the Schism."

She gave a soft sigh. "Not good."

"It's growing," he explained, "because there's nothing holding it in place. It's going to keep growing as well unless I can stop it."

"We," she corrected him. "Stop it with this _I_ business. I know I'm not Time Lord clever but I'm not too bad in the brains department. You're not doing this alone – _we're_ going to stop it."

It was silly that such a statement should make him feel better but it did.

"So, we need a plan," Zoe said, unfolding her arms and clapping her hands together. "You said that Rassilon contained it using a circlet. So I have two questions: one, how did he do that? And two, do you happen to have one knocking about in the TARDIS?"

"No, I don't have one, there was only one in existence," the Doctor replied. "And I don't know how he did that. He never shared that information, at least not with society as a whole. Others might have known – Romana, Brax, Omega for sure – but that information wasn't public and I didn't actually pay attention when I had access to the information."

He looked embarrassed and annoyed at that fact.

"Okay, that's an obstacle," she said. "But as I used to tell my students, an obstacle is not an excuse for failure. It's an opportunity for creative thinking. So we need to get creative."

The Doctor smiled softly at her.

"What?" She asked him. "Your expression does not look like it's thinking creatively."

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "I was just...you must have been a good teacher, that's all."

"Oh." She stopped short, surprised. "Well...I like to think I was. I mean, I tried. I -" she shook her head. "Not the best time to talk about this. We should probably get out of here. I'm pretty sure I heard the TARDIS a few minutes ago."

"Jack Harkness to the rescue," he grinned, and they climbed back up the mountain to find Jack was waiting for them at the top, his long coat flapping in the breeze.

"Hello, you two." Jack flashed his white teeth at them in a smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Knew you'd find us," Zoe smiled at him, taking his hand and pulling him into a hug. "Everyone okay?"

"They're in the TARDIS and are fine, though Jackie's a bit shaken up," he said. "Figured I'd come out and look for you. Good job I did because what the hell is that?"

He pointed at the Untempered Schism.

"Trouble," the Doctor said, clapping his shoulder in greeting. "Don't look. I'll explain in the TARDIS."

"Come on then," Jack said, tearing his eyes away from the Schism with some difficulty. "Your chariot awaits."

* * *

The Doctor explained the situation they had found themselves in as he fussed over Zoe's various injuries in the medical bay. His helping hand earlier had ensured that there was no concussion but a human brain shouldn't have massive amounts of electrical energy running through it and so he put her under a piece of equipment that looked like a perming station but was decidedly not, and finished his explanation to the others. He was craving a strong cup of tea and wondered if he could persuade Jackie to make him one before deciding that it wasn't worth the sharp words he was sure would follow such a request. Zoe didn't like him asking for a cup of tea and Rose once threatened to punch him in the face when he told her to get her one, though they would always bring him one when he didn't ask.

Humans were strange.

"So we're on the planet of the Borg?" Rose asked, snapping his attention back to the matter at hand.

"More or less," Zoe said in German, the TARDIS not bothering to translate.

"What did she say?" Mickey asked.

"More or less," the Doctor translated. "And whilst there are similarities between the Borg and the Cybermen, they're not the Borg."

 _Borg_ Zoe mouthed, only the lower part of her face visible.

"Why is she speakin' another language?" Jackie asked, and the Doctor resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Because this –" he placed his hand on top of the machine, "is currently fixing her brain after the electrical current she received and it's clearly crossed a few neural paths. She'll be fine and speaking English before long. Or maybe French. I'm sure she'll be okay."

"That's reassuring," Zoe said in Chinese and he snorted, reaching down to squeeze her arm.

"So what do we do?" Jack asked. "The TARDIS brought us here for a pretty good reason given what I know of the Untempered Schism."

"Yeah, about that," the Doctor said with a frown. "How do you know about that?"

"The Agency."

"The Time Agency should not be aware of the Untempered Schism," he said seriously. "No one outside of Gallifrey should; although, admittedly, there are a few exceptions to that."

"Well, rumour had it that there were some agents embedded on Gallifrey back in the day," Jack said, and the Doctor stared at him. "Only a rumour. I was never high enough up in the organisation to have clearance for those files, if they even exist. Gallifrey and Time Lords were mainly myth and legend to us, but most of us know about the Schism."

"That is –" he began, mind spinning at the revelation. "Something we'll have to revisit at a later date, captain."

Jack gave him a little salute.

"In the meantime, I need to – ow!" Zoe pinched his side. " _We_ need to figure out a way to push the Untempered Schism back into place. It can't stay here. If it does –"

Zoe mimed a catastrophic explosion between her hands, her cheeks puffing up.

He didn't want to smile but his mouth twitched regardless.

"I hear the call of research," Jack said, and Rose tipped her head back and groaned. He nudged her with a smile. "It'll be fun."

"You an' Zoe are probably the only two people who think research is _fun,_ " Rose said in disgust. "Even the Doctor doesn't enjoy it as much as you two."

"That's because Jack and I have discerning tastes," Zoe said smugly in Swahili.

The Doctor translated.

Rose raised a finger. "Guess how many fingers I'm holdin' up?"

Zoe stuck her tongue out in return.

It took her thirty minutes under the medical device to heal her brain from the injuries received and to ensure that she was speaking English again. She was relieved as whilst she might not be as intelligent as the Doctor, she was excellent at research – a skill that he quickly put to use once she had scarfed down a sandwich and cradled a large cup of coffee close to her chest. She sat herself down on the sofa next to Jackie who could barely take her eyes off the cavernous library that she found herself in. Zoe knew she was trying to understand exactly how the ship, which was so small on the outside, could possibly contain a library the size of St Paul's cathedral.

They left the Gallifreyan books for the Doctor and divided up the rest for themselves. It was slow going, and they worked late into the night. Zoe got up twice to refill the coffee pot before she fell asleep, slumped over a stack of books, one of the last to fall. Mickey was snoring with his head resting on Jack's thigh, Rose tucked up against Jack's other side, and his eyelids were beginning to grow heavy. Upon seeing Zoe drop off, he set his book down and moved towards her to carefully rearrange her body so that she was sleeping more comfortably on the sofa, a blanket tucked around her, her mother sleeping at the other end. Jack watched him through tired eyes before he too fell asleep.

It was just over two hours later when Zoe woke so abruptly that she startled him. Her eyes snapped open and she met his eyes. "I have an idea."

"It came to you when you were sleeping?" He asked, his hearts thundering in his chest.

It took a lot of restraint to not press his hand to his chest like a startled Jane Austen heroine.

"Yes," she said, sitting up and pushing the soft blanket down her body. "But not about the Schism, about the Cybermen."

He marked his place in his book, interested. "Oh?"

"They're cybernetically modified humans, correct?" She clarified.

"Correct."

"Then can't we just upload a virus into their operating system?" She asked, and he stared at her. "Disrupt their systems and shut them down?"

He made a thoughtful sound in his throat. "You're still thinking that they're the Borg. Yes, they're cybernetically modified but there isn't an overarching computer system that they feed into."

Her face fell. He felt bad that he caused such an expression to appear on her face.

"Well, isn't there something we can do with the modifications on them?" She asked, holding his gaze as she thought. "Earlier you said that this sort of design crops up regularly –"

"I did," he nodded. "It's a common design amongst people trying to prolong their life."

"Then, and I'm just spitballing here," she warned him. "Then wouldn't the individual Cybermen have the same base operating system, or their mechanics would operate on the same frequency? Can't we find a way to do something with that?"

She gestured vaguely with a hand, coming to the end of her theoretical knowledge on the subject, hoping that he would be able to glean something useful from the words and ideas she spewed at him.

He leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him, rolling his neck and tapping his fingers against his thigh.

"You know..." he said slowly, his mind turning over. "You might just be onto something?"

"Oh?" She looked pleased. "Yay me?"

"Yay you.," he smiled fondly at her. "We can't create a code that will knock them all out but they have a communications system that is built into their head gear." He rubbed his jaw. "It runs on a radio frequency, I'll have to check which, but maybe if I create a negative feedback along that same frequency, it'll jam their cybernetics."

She leaned forward. "And that'll knock them out?"

"No," he said. He held up a finger to forestall her disappointment. " _But_ it will confuse their cybernetics. I can probably create a rotating frequency harmonic so that it keeps them confused for as long as we're here. It won't kill them because life support is an isolated system, but it might just prevent them from moving about. It'll definitely stop them communicating."

She tipped her head to one side. "That's better than nothing, right?"

He smiled at her. "Right. Come on, you. Let's leave this lot to sleep and go set up the frequency."

Her smile was wide as she accepted his hand. He pulled her to her feet. The movement woke Jack, who snorted as he was pulled from sleep, blinking around at them.

"What's going on?"

"Zoe's had an idea, go back to sleep," the Doctor said, and Jack gave a grumbling sound before his head fell back again.

He drew her hand up so as to press his lips against her knuckles. He winked at her before dropping it and taking off out of the library at great speed and raced to the console room. He heard her laughing behind him before the sound of her bare feet running across the floors of his ship let him know that she was chasing after him. She reached the console room half a minute after him, wide awake and a little breathless. He babbled at her at a hundred miles an hour as he told her what she needed to do. Fortunately, she was fluent in Doctor-speak, and she was able to keep up with him as they wrote a code that would enable them to confuse the Cybermen.

"Not the most elegant thing I've ever create," the Doctor said as he finished with a flourish, "but it'll get the job done."

"How are we going to transmit it?" Zoe asked, peering around his shoulder at the screen.

He patted the TARDIS. "The old girl. She makes an excellent radio tower at times."

It was easy enough to run the radio frequency through the TARDIS computers – so easy that the Doctor took the time to teach her how to do it, his good mood at having one problem half-taken care of infectious. Computers and computer science would never be her favourite thing in the world but it was fascinating nonetheless. He let her input the final instructions and the TARDIS came alive around them, vibrating slightly beneath their feet, as the radio frequency pulsed out from her. A low hum, unnoticeable to Zoe with her human hearing, continued as they watched on the screen as the Cybermen surrounding the TARDIS jerked as though electrocuted. Their bodies convulsed, and they staggered away from the perimeter they had set up around the ship, hands raised to their heads, their movements awkward.

They disappeared into the treeline.

Zoe watched it happen with a look of faint disgust on her face at the unnatural movement. "That's horrific. Do you think it hurt them?"

"No," he said with a shake of his head, "it's just going to be disorientating."

"Where are they going?"

"Probably back to their compound," he said, turning off the screen. "See if they can fix what's wrong." She looked briefly worried. "They won't be able to. The TARDIS will oscillate the frequency quicker than they can fix it. We'll still need to be careful outside though, but we have the advantage now."

She smiled up at him. "Point for us."

"Point for us."

They bumped shoulders with each other.

"So," she said, "that's one problem solved. What are we going to do about our bigger problem?"

"Still not sure."

With a fresh pot of coffee and a plate of sandwiches he made up whilst she was in the bathroom, they got back to work.

Unfortunately, a breakthrough in solving the problem of the Schism couldn't be solved by simply letting Zoe dream of a possible solution. Night slipped into day ,and Jack awoke with a start, skin a little clammy, clearly shaken out of a nightmare. The Doctor said nothing but offered him a cup of tea. His movements in taking it woke Rose and Mickey up as well. Jackie yawned and sat up, her hair a mess.

"Have you finished yet?" She asked, patting down her hair.

"Fifty percent done, thanks to Zoe," the Doctor said.

"It was a team effort," she said, voice muffled from where her face was mashed against the sofa cushion as she attempted to fight the pull of sleep.

"I'm going to make a fresh pot of tea," he said, mouth twitching at Zoe's determined fight. "Anyone want anything?"

He left them to it and stretched his back out as he walked. The work felt futile as there were too many books in the library, and even with the TARDIS running through the information with them, it felt like they were looking for a needle in a haystack: except they weren't sure if the needle was actually there. He was yawning when he stepped into the kitchen for the tea, blinking blearing as he opened the fridge for a piece of chocolate cake that he was certain was still in there.

There wasn't always a fridge on the TARDIS, not for a long time, but it appeared when he was exiled on Earth during his third regeneration and had stayed ever since. It had been an oddity at the time but he was quite fond of it now. He shut the door with his sought after cake in one hand, although he wasn't actually sure how long the cake had been there as neither Zoe nor he had cooked in weeks; not that it mattered as the TARDIS kept the food from going off.

He looked at the magnets on the front of the fridge as the kettle whistled.

Charley had liked collecting magnets from all the places they travelled to. He was never quite sure why but it made her happy and so most of the magnets on the fridge were from her. Some were from Lucy, and Romana had added one the last time she had been on board; Rose and Jack were adding to the collection as well. He picked one off the front of the fridge. Charley had got it from a cheap tourist shop in Hong Kong, the last one she had picked up, and he rubbed his thumb over it before putting it back. He took another bite of the cake and turned away before pausing and turning back.

He set his plate down and, mouth full of cake, took two magnets off the fridge and held them against each other. The force repelled them from each other. He swallowed his mouthful before hurrying back through the TARDIS to where Zoe was telling the others how she and the Doctor had solved the problem of the Cybermen.

"Magnets," the Doctor interrupted, and their heads swivelled around to look at him. He shook the magnets at them. "Magnets."

"He's lost his mind," Jackie said before shrugging. "Bound to happen eventually, I s'pose."

"I think I've solved it," he said excitedly, happily ignoring Jackie. "Magnets."

"You can't just keep saying magnets and expect us to understand," Zoe said, turning her whole body around on the sofa so that she could look at him properly without straining her neck. "What is is about magnets?"

"Magnets repel, right?" He said, and she nodded slowly. "We need to create an opposing magnetic effect. If we can polarise the TARDIS to the right frequency then we can push the Schism out of Mondas."

"That's actually a good idea," Jack said, leaning forward. "But how would we control the direction and stop it smashing into another planet?"

"We won't have to," he said, tossing a magnet to Mickey who fumbled the catch. "Once the Schism is out of Mondas all we need to do is create a Time Lock at the same frequency as the one the War is trapped in, and we'll be done."

Zoe looked hopeful. "You know the frequency?"

"Romana used this TARDIS to Time Lock the War to prevent it spilling out whilst I was busy with other things," the Doctor said. "Her calculations will still be in the database."

A smile crept across her face. "Magnets."

"Magnets," he laughed.

* * *

It was a dangerous plan.

They needed to set up transmitters around the edge of the Untempered Schism, which meant they needed to get very close to the roaring tea of time and space, closer than any of them were comfortable with. By the time the large group of six emerged from the TARDIS with the transmitters hoisted over their shoulders, coded with the correct frequency, the Schism had grown to the size of ten football pitches. It pushed up against the mountains and bit into the rock face. Getting around it would be very difficult and whilst the Doctor and Jack took the more dangerous sides where the gap between the edge of the Schism and the foot of the mountain was narrower, Zoe still felt terrified as she moved around it with more care than she had ever taken in her life.

She was grateful that Jackie and Mickey remained on the sidelines, watching from the TARDIS, as she couldn't be worrying about them at the same time as tiptoeing her way past the universe.

Even through her freshly glued on sunglasses, a headache started to form behind her eyes.

It pounded in her temples and at the base of her skull, promising a painful recovery process when they were done. The very thought of an eight-year-old Doctor standing in front of the Untempered Schism all those years ago made her heart hurt and her blood turn hot with fury at what the Time Lords had done to their children. There was no excuse in the universe for submitting a child to such a traumatising experience and he must have been terrified; for although she was protected from it by the sunglasses, her heart was pounding and every inch of her body was sweating from the effect it was having on her.

It took a long time to properly set up the transmitter beacons due to the precarious nature of their positions. Zoe had to crouch to activate the beacons and the hem of her jacket threatened to brush against the rip of space-time. Between the four of them, they were able to get it done but she was drenched in a cold sweat when she activated her last beacon and carefully rose to her feet. She looked across the expanse of the Schism and saw the Doctor was waiting for her; Jack was already back on solid ground, his eyes trained on Rose as she made her way towards him.

Although she couldn't make out his features, she could imagine the concerned expression well enough. She wasn't surprised that he had finished first. Jack was far more capable than he let people believe and, occasionally, he would say something that would give even the Doctor a slight pause for thought over how intelligent he was. She imagined that he was wasted at the Time Agency and it was no wonder his memories had been stripped from him. He had probably uncovered something he wasn't supposed to simply because he was infernally curious.

The Doctor yelled across to her. "Zoe! Look out!"

His voice was at a distance but the panic tinged within was audible. He was moving towards her, running hard, but he would never reach her in time. Rose cried her name, and Jack's mouth opened in warning.

Panic spiked through her, and she turned.

A Cyberman was jerking towards her, sparks sputtering from its damaged computer system, somehow fighting against the radio frequency that should have rendered it confused and useless. She stumbled back. Even in her fear she was careful with where she put her feet, and her hand reached out to grab hold of the mountain face, hand sliding across the icy outgrowth. It reached out for her and she leaned back as far away from it as she could. Her foot slid out from beneath her, and she cried out as she fell, fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick mountain side. She turned her body into the mountain, away from the Untempered Schism, and she lashed out with her foot.

It struck the Cyberman in the knee, and it stumbled back. She lost her footing and fell into the rock face, forehead smacking against the rocks. One of the lenses in her glasses cracked as she tried to stop her fall. The Cyberman caught hold of her. She heard Jackie was screaming somewhere from above and the Doctor calling desperately out to her. He was closer than before but still too far away. Electricity sparked through the Cyberman's fingers, and it burned into her skin at the base of her neck, making her nerves jump and her fingers twitch. Her face scraped down the side of the mountain, the cracked lens popping free of the frames, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"Doctor!" She screamed, unsure much longer she could keep her face turned away and the Cyberman at bay.

She kicked out again, wild and uncontrolled. She felt it grab her ankle and pull. Her strength was no match for it, and she lost her grip on the mountain face. She buried her face into the icy mud and dug her nails in, kicking wildly behind her. One of her kicks struck true, and she felt a release of weight from her body. It was so abrupt that she lost all strength in her body and collapsed into the mud, breathing heavily, tucking her arms and limbs in close as she shakily got to her knees, eyes remaining closed.

There was a loud rumbling sound.

Fear struck her. "What's that?"

"Avalanche!"

He was almost there. He was so close he saw Zoe's face tilt up and her eyes open to watch the fall of snow tumble down the mountainside to send her into the Schism.

She pushed herself to her feet and scrambled out of the way, pushing forward with a run to meet him halfway. He thought, for one brilliant moment, that she was going to make. He thought they would be okay. As though the Gods had heard him, a large rock shook free of the mountain and entered Zoe's path. She tripped on it and went flying. He dove across the distance to catch her, and she slammed into his body with a loud, pained sound but he caught her.

 _He caught her._

Beautiful relief filled him. His arms tightened around her, his chest heaving against hers, and he closed his eyes as he breathed her in..

Yet the impact of her body against his forced the air from her lungs, and her eyes popped open automatically. Through her broken glasses, she stared unprotected into the Untempered Schism.

All of time and space poured into her head.

She opened her mouth and _screamed._


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

Her scream tore through his eardrums, and he wasted no time.

He hauled Zoe over his shoulder and took off at a run for the TARDIS. Jack was racing towards him, panic gripping his face, whilst Jackie screamed her fear from above as Mickey and Rose tried to keep her from getting underfoot. His foot slipped on the icy ground but Jack was there, his hands catching him, and between the two of them they got Zoe away from the Untempered Schism. She kept screaming in one long wail of agony that didn't seem to care about the finite amount of air in her lungs. Her mouth was stretched wide, and her eyes were peeled back. Blood vessels burst in the whites of her eyes as her body convulsed and jerked with the energy of the universe spiralling through her.

"What's happenin'?" Jackie demanded, straining against Mickey and Rose's grip in the struggle to reach her daughter. "What the hell have you done to her?"

There was no time to answer.

"The Schism," the Doctor grunted to Jack as they climbed up the steep incline to reach the TARDIS, and Zoe was _still_ screaming. "You need to –"

"Mickey!" Jack called, twisting his head over his shoulder. "Activate the programme for the beacons. Quickly!"

Ashen faced, Mickey nodded.

The doors to the TARDIS sprung open before the Doctor reached them. The TARDIS read the panic in his mind and hurried help along. He rushed through the console room, and the sharp, blistering edge of panic faded just a little when he noted that the TARDIS was already wrapping around Zoe's mind, trying to stem the tide of death that was racing through her. He vaguely heard Jackie and Rose trying to keep up, Mickey remaining behind to activate the transmitter beacons, but he paid no attention to them. He and Jack hurried along, their shoes smacking heavily against the ground. Zoe's scream died for a moment as her lungs filled with oxygen again, then she was screaming once more.

His ship, his beautiful bluer than blue ship, pulled the room he needed out of the depths of her belly and thrust the door at him. It slid open before Jack could touch it, and they barrelled inside. As soon as they crossed the threshold, Zoe stopped screaming.

The abrupt silence was disorientating.

Zoe was slumped lifelessly against him. Her limbs trailed down like reeds in the water. The ringing silence was broken only by the sound of his hearts thundering in his chest. His hand tightened on the back of her thigh as Jack helped lift her off his shoulder. They set her down in midair where she lay as though she was resting on a table.

He stared down at her. Horror yawned through him like a festering wound. Her body was drenched in sweat and blood bloomed bruises beneath her skin. The blood vessels opened up under the surface and spread like a virus throughout her body, forcing dark ink marks to rise to her skin. Blood streaked her face; it leaked from her nostrils and stained her cheeks from where it wept out of her whilst it dripped back into her hair from her ears.

"Is she okay?" Rose asked breathlessly, bursting into the room with Jackie who made straight for her daughter.

With a hand that trembled, the Doctor reached out pressed his fingers against her soft skin between her jaw and her neck. He felt the faint fluttering of her pulse. His body shuddered with relief.

"She's not dead yet," the Doctor breathed, and a strangled sound left Jackie's throat: _yet._ He met her eyes across Zoe's body. "Jackie..."

"What happened?" She demanded. "She just started screamin'. What happened?"

"She looked into the universe," he explained weakly, "and the universe looked back."

"What do we do?" Jack asked. "Tell me what to do, Doctor."

"I don't know," he shook his head, eyes locked on Zoe's tortured face. "Her mind...the room and the TARDIS are protecting her mind but she has all of the universe in her head at the moment. It's going to tear her mind apart." He felt cut adrift and lost. "I don't know what to do."

"Yes, you do," Rose said, shaking. She moved forward and gripped his arm, forcing him to look at her. "You always know what to do. You're the Doctor. Fix her."

"I..."

"Doctor," Jack said, voice stern. His eyes snapped up, and his friend held his gaze. "Stop it. You're panicking, and you need to stop. _Think_. What do we need to do first?"

His mind was blank.

No thoughts were firing as he was consumed by sheer panic.

Jack's steady gaze grounded him though. Slowly, and then all at once, he started thinking again.

"I need medical equipment," he said, the words rushing from his mouth like a tidal wave. "We need to stabilise her and make sure that her mind doesn't buckle any more. Rose, stay here with Zoe. If she so much as twitches, shout for me. Jack, with me."

They left the room quickly and crossed the hallway into the sickbay, the TARDIS rearranging the internal layout to encourage their speed. The Doctor rattled off a list of the medical equipment he needed and Jack pulled them out from their various locations. He was swift and quiet, though the Doctor would almost have preferred his conversation. Anything to distract him from the fact that Zoe was teetering on the brink of death.

 _Again_.

He tried to ignore the thought but she was close to death yet again because of him: Tolandra, France, and Mondas; all of them had changed her, nearly killed her, and he kept allowing her to rush headlong into danger. He thought of Katarina, Sara, Adric, Lucie, Alex, and Tamsin. His friends who he had tried to protect but who had died anyway because they were brilliant and brave. He didn't want to add Zoe's name to that list but he wasn't sure how to save her.

Her mind wasn't developed enough to hold even a fraction of the weight of the Untempered Schism. The only reason children on Gallifrey could look into it without losing their minds was due to the Rassilon Circlet that dampened the effect of it. Even he had never looked into it so deeply before.

He thought of the Master and of who he had been before the Untempered Schism. The Master went mad after looking into it, and all of his friendliness, warmth, and compassion was burned away as a consequence. The thought of Zoe turning into the Master with all of his abject cruelties and brilliant intelligence made him ache even as his mind whispered _at least she'll be alive_ over and over in his mind.

Arms full of delicate equipment, Jack turned to him. "Anything else?"

"I don't think so," the Doctor replied, dragging his mind back onto the task at hand. He turned and Mickey was in the doorway.

"How's Zoe?"

"Dying," he said bluntly, and Mickey flinched.

The Doctor felt a brief spasm of guilt before he swept past Mickey and back into the Zero Room where Jackie was unhelpfully crying over her daughter's comatose body. He and Jack set up the equipment quickly. He didn't know what he was going to do, he just knew that he had to do something. The alternative was simply standing to one side and watching her die in front of him and that just wasn't an option.

He and Jack worked in tandem as they stabilised Zoe's vital signs. She was in hypertensive crisis, and the only reason she hadn't had a stroke was because the Zero Room slowed everything down within her body so as to give him time to work. Her body was still degrading. and her mind was still tearing itself apart but at an infinitely slower pace than the rest of time. The TARDIS formed a protective shield around her mind and whilst the damage couldn't be removed, it could be contained and prevented from spreading any further. Jack was able to stop Zoe bleeding and the Doctor was able to relieve the pressure on her heart but the main problem couldn't be solved.

The universe was swirling around in her mind and he didn't know how to remove it.

"She's stable," the Doctor said, hours later, his voice rough and hoarse. "For now."

"When'll she wake up?" Rose asked, her hand clutching Mickey's and she was leaning into him where they sat on the floor out of the way.

"She'll only wake up if I can get the damage to her brain fixed," he explained. He passed a hand across his face. He felt _old_. "But I don't know how to do that. Not yet. But there's a way – there has to be a way."

He was rambling and his hand was shaking. Jack moved around Zoe and took his shoulder in his hand. The Doctor came back to himself as he focused on Jack's touch.

"I will fix this," he said firmly. "However long it takes, whatever I have to do, I will fix this."

"Of course you will," Jack said, voice oddly reassuring. "There are people I know who might be able to help. I'll call in some favours."

The Doctor wanted to thank him but the words were stuck in his throat. He nodded his gratitude instead but Jack understood.

He and the TARDIS worked in tandem throughout the night to save her. Her body and mind were not equipped to handling the full force of the Untempered Schism. When it had been his turn to look into the Schism all those years ago on Gallifrey, he was terrified by what he saw and hadn't stopped running since then.

* * *

Jackie eventually let Jack coax her away from Zoe's bedside. Although it technically wasn't a bedside as her daughter was really just floating in midair with wires leading out of her from where she was hooked up to the medical machines that hummed quietly as they monitored her status. He promised that he wouldn't leave her side, and she wanted to cry, appreciative of the handsome man that was a friend to both his daughters. She couldn't help but think that it would have been easier if he had been the one to whisk Rose and Zoe away out into the universe. He was certainly more personable than the Doctor.

She was exhausted with hating him and being angry at him. She had raged at him once everything settled down and Zoe was as stable as she could be. Her throat was raw from yelling, screaming, and crying, but it was no use to spend her fury on him. She realised that she could never blame him for what had happened as much as he blamed himself. It was obvious in every cell of his body how much he carried the guilt over what had happened, and Jackie had never much enjoyed kicking people when they were down. She simmered in resentment for the man, but she kept her thoughts on his character and his guilt to herself as he was the only one who had any chance of saving her daughter.

She stepped out of the room and her ears popped. She winced and stretched her jaw until it clicked. She shook her head and looked around her. She didn't know where anything was. The hallways were all the same as each other, and she hadn't been so deep into the TARDIS before, certainly not without Rose or Zoe. She thought about asking Jack but then she remembered what Zoe had said: the TARDIS was sentient, whatever that meant in alien speak. She looked awkwardly around before clearing her throat.

"The kitchen?" She asked the air, feeling ridiculous. A light flashed at the end of the hall. "Thank you."

She followed the lights that winked at her until she found herself in the kitchen. Relief trickled through her, and she made herself a cup of tea whilst looking at the pictures on the fridge, held in place by strange magnets. Rose and Zoe had their arms slung around each other, dressed in swimming costumes, beaming at the camera. There was a picture of the Doctor giving Rose a piggyback and laughing; Jack and Zoe dancing with bright smiles; all four of them grinning widely as they leaned into each other. Her eye was drawn to one of Zoe and the Doctor. She looked young, the daughter she remembered from weeks ago; she was smiling at the camera but the Doctor was smiling down at her.

She tugged it off the fridge and looked at her daughter's face: young, happy, carefree.

 _Before Reinette_ , Jackie thought to herself, covering the Doctor's face with her thumb so she could just look at her daughter.

Fresh fear welled up inside her, and she nearly choked on it. She put the picture back on the fridge and made her cup of tea, hands shaking. She sat at the table and sipped her drink as she tried not to worry but it was impossible not to. The way Zoe had screamed echoed in her mind. She wanted to vomit, and she felt the hot burn of bile in her throat. She tightened her hand on her mug, closing her eyes. As much as she didn't like the Doctor, she had to trust him to fix what was wrong with Zoe. If he loved her half as much as she suspected he did then he would do his best to save her.

She hated being out of her depth.

She hated the Doctor for putting her there.

"Oh." A soft, surprised sound came from the doorway. "Jackie. I didn't realise you were still up."

Jackie looked over her shoulder at the Doctor and stared at him. His large leather jacket was gone and he had discarded his jumper. He looked oddly normal in his dark jeans and grey T-shirt – like any bloke she might meet around Peckham. He also looked exhausted, and his eyes were rimmed with red; it took her a moment to understand why.

"Have you been cryin'?" She asked, only realising once she had spoken how rude that question was.

"Tears are cathartic," the Doctor replied, unashamed but quiet. "Though, sadly, they don't actually solve anything."

He walked past her in his socks and put the kettle on again. She watched him and tried to see in him what Rose and Zoe found so interesting. His easy access to all of time and space was a clear selling point but neither of her daughters would have stayed with him as long as they had if he was a harsh, unpleasant man. Rose had learnt a very painful lesson from Jimmy Stone whilst Zoe had quietly absorbed all of Jackie's failures at dating unsuitable men so she was unlikely to throw her lot in with someone who was unworthy. There had to be something about him that kept both her girls coming back, especially given how terrifyingly dangerous his life was.

He was moderately handsome.

She vaguely remembered meeting him for the first time the morning after Henrik's exploded. A lot of her memories of that meeting were blurred with time and the worry of what had happened to Rose, but she clearly recalled propositioning him. It was something that embarrassed her now but he was attractive in a rough and ready way. The muscles in his arms were defined but not overwhelming, and his forearms were covered with dark hair. He had long, elegant fingers, and broad shoulders. He had a nice back, she decided, and a pleasant backside but his general good looks also wouldn't be enough to keep Rose and Zoe at his side for longer than it took for the shine of something new and pretty to wear off.

"You want something to eat?" The Doctor asked her, pulling her out of her critical observation of him.

He was looking at her but he didn't seem to notice her distraction.

She shook her head. "No. I can't eat right now."

"All right," he said with a nod. He pulled out a slice of cold pizza from the fridge and ate it standing up. She watched him. He swallowed the last mouthful. "What?"

"What?"

"You're watching me," he told her. "What is it?"

She sighed. "I'm just tryin' to figure out why Rose an' Zoe like you so much."

He gave her a humourless grin. "I'm a pretty likeable person."

She snorted. His grin took on a more amused tilt before it faded as quickly as it had appeared.

"We didn't get off to the best of starts," the Doctor conceded, "you and I."

"We didn't."

"And I know that you said an apology wouldn't help," he continued, "but I am sorry for the pain that I've caused you. It was never intentional."

Jackie looked up at him, tired from being angry. "Zoe likes to say that intent matters."

"I've heard that before." His mouth twitched. "She also says that even if the intention is the purest thing in the world, if the impact harms someone then it's important to make things right."

"She's a smart girl," Jackie said, looking away from him again.

"She is," he agreed. "Gets it from her mum, I think."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Brown nosin' isn't goin' to make me like you."

"You already don't like me," he pointed out. "So I lose nothing by being truthful."

She shook her head. "Zoe's smarter than I ever was. Don't know where she gets it from."

"From one parent to another," the Doctor said, "kids pick up what's going on in the home. You clearly gave her a safe place to be herself and to learn. She's told me a few things about how she was teased for being smarter than the average bear, but you made it all right for her to be smart. For her to work hard and not feel ashamed at enjoying learning. She might be smart, but you helped her get there."

Jackie sniffed and peered down into her mug to hide her tears.

"Be honest with me," she said once she had wrestled her emotions under control. "Is she goin' to die?"

He was already shaking his head. "No. I won't let it happen."

"You're not God."

"On some planets I am," he said. He finally sat down at the table with her and reached for her hand, covering it with his. She had never really touched him before, and she was surprised at how normal he felt though he did feel quite cool. "I don't know what to do next, but I'll figure it out. She's going to be fine because the alternative is me standing over her grave, and I'm not going to do that. Not with another person I –"

He cut himself off and looked frustrated by his loquaciousness.

"Love," Jackie finished for him. "A person you love."

His nostrils flared, and he couldn't meet her eyes but he nodded.

"You do what you have to do to save my girl," Jackie told him seriously. "An' I'm goin' to stay right here, by her side, until she's back on her feet."

He passed a hand over his face. "There's an incentive."

"Oi."

He laughed. "You sound just like Rose. Or she sounds just like you. It's really disconcerting."

"Like mother, like daughter," she shrugged. She pulled her hand out from under his, flexing her fingers at her side. She stood up. "You save my daughter, Doctor. You save her."

His eyes were the brightest, clearest blue she had ever seen. "I will. I promise."

She swallowed and nodded before leaving the kitchen.

* * *

The days slid into weeks and the Doctor was no closer to finding a cure for Zoe than he was the day he put her in the Zero Room. Her mind was slowly disintegrating. The protoplasmic fibres that neurons used to communicate with each other were beginning to fray and snap, and her body was wasting away as it worked overtime to try and compensate for the pressure that her mind was under – her metabolism was burning harder and faster, eating at the fat and muscle that she carried. An IV drip and a feeding line were constantly attached to her skeletal arm now to make sure that she got the nutrients she needed so her organs didn't start to fail. He was exhausted in a way he hadn't been since the first few horrible days after the War had come to its miserable conclusion. He found himself falling asleep where he worked and skipping meals because he just wasn't hungry. He kept her company whenever he could, not that his presence was required. Jackie and Rose were steadfast companions at her side, transforming the Zero Room into a particularly comfortable hospital room.

He wasn't sure if Zoe could hear the conversations going on around her. Jackie read to her from the pile of to-be-read books that were on Zoe's bedside table, and Mickey had filled the silence with gossip from the estate on the rare occasion that he wasn't running errands for the Doctor and Jack, unable to help in any other way. He hoped though that perhaps their voices would break through the torment she was in and she could follow it out like breadcrumbs scattered across the floor.

"If anything changes, call for me," the Doctor repeated his usual refrain before leaving the room.

Mickey watched him leave. His shoulders were slumped, and he looked ancient. A tight, sick feeling threatened to strangle him as he contemplated just what the Doctor looking like that meant for Zoe.

"I'm worried about him," he said into the silence that was broken only by the faint beeps of the machine.

"We're all worried about him," Jack replied, rubbing a hand over his face and holding his place in the medical journal he was scanning. "But he's not going to stop until Zoe's conscious again."

He was glad Rose and Jackie were at least getting a few hours of sleep under them.

"You think that's goin' to happen?" He asked and Jack looked up, holding his gaze seriously. "Look at her." He gestured at her wasted form. "She's dyin'. How can anyone come back from this?"

"Sometimes," Jack said carefully, "miracles happen. And I'm holding out for a miracle."

"Yeah," Mickey said, curling his hand gently around Zoe's blanket covered foot. "I am too. I just...she's my sister."

Jack's eyes softened. "I know. We all love her, which is why this can't happen."

Mickey sniffed, embarrassed at the tears that pooled hotly in his eyes. Jack, who under normal circumstances would have comforted him, pretended that nothing was amiss – in line with early 21st century male sensibilities that he thought were ridiculous but respected anyway.

In his bedroom, the Doctor shut himself in his bathroom and sat down on the cool, tiled floor. He drew his knees up to his chest and pressed his forehead against them. Three weeks she had been in a comatose state, hovering between life and death. Each day that passed was another day that he hadn't been able to save her. The longer she was in her injured state, the harder it would be to ensure that she experienced a full recovery. If her brain kept shutting down axon by axon, then there would be nothing left of her; he could save her body but her mind, the thing that made her _her_ , would be gone. He thought of her dead, of lowering her coffin into an empty space in some graveyard on Earth, with everyone dressed in black and an abrupt wave of intense fear crashed into him.

His mouth opened in a choked gasp. He unfurled himself and stretched his body out in an attempt to escape the all-consuming sensation but with no success. His vision swam as the bathroom around him turned upside down and started to spin. He couldn't get a hold on what was up and what was down, the dizziness unbearable and frightening. He shook: limbs trembling and teeth clattering against each other as though cold. He wasn't cold though. Sweat slicked his skin and heat pressed in against him. He clawed at his throat with shaking hands, trying to dislodge whatever it was that was choking him. Time stretched like soft toffee and his Time Senses abandoned him. His panic attack gripped him hard and wrung suffering from him.

Eventually, he was able to catch his breath. He filled his lungs full of air that let him slowly beat back the panic. He stopped shaking and the heat that had erupted over him died a death, leaving him covered in sweat and shivering from the sudden drop in temperature. He lay flat on his back on the ground and focused on his breathing. It was over a year since his last panic attack, and he still remembered how to bring himself down even as fear chased him.

He breathed in with a slow, deliberate draw through his nostrils, then he exhaled just as slowly through his mouth.

He repeated the process until he stopped shaking.

"You can do this," the Doctor whispered, hands pressed over his eyes. "You can solve this. You are smart and resourceful, and you have done harder things. Zoe is going to be fine because you are going to make her fine."

He repeated the positive mantra twice more before he let his hands fall away from his eyes.

He still felt weak and shaky. He sat up and turned the taps on so as to fill the bath. Soaking in a hot bath generally helped him with the after effects of a panic attack. He struggled out of his jumper that was heavy with sweat. He made a pained sound as he tried to twist himself out of his trousers before he tipped himself into the bath tub that was not yet full. He slumped back and let the steam fill the room as he lay there.

It was one of his core beliefs that to every problem there was a solution.

He just needed to find the solution for Zoe's case.

As he picked up his loofah to slosh the sweat from his skin, and to reinvigorate him, he started thinking again. Jack was still reaching out to his various contacts who were about as hard to find as the Doctor expected Jack's contacts to be, and some of those old favours that the Doctor was calling in had been unable to help him. Even Boksil, who was one of the finest medical researchers the Doctor had ever come across in his travels, hadn't been able to help. He spent an entire day with Zoe but what ailed her was far beyond even his capabilities. He was deeply apologetic when he said so to the Doctor. He promised to keep working but the Doctor didn't hold out much hope. Boksil was an Atkyan and he was already dead from the devastating side effect that had come with curing renepscia syndrome. The Doctor had crossed his own personal timeline in an effort to find a cure. He couldn't risk doing so again. He sat forward and scrubbed at his back. What he needed was a magical potion that would cure all of Zoe's ills and restore her to health.

It's a shame magic wasn't real.

Except –

He lowered his loofah as memories started to coalesce into thoughts that soon turned into an idea.

The Sisterhood of Karn.

"The Sisterhood of what?" Rose asked some twenty minutes later as she stood in the console room with him.

"The Sisterhood of Karn," the Doctor repeated. He was wearing a fresh pair of clothes and the after effects of his panic attack were so negligible that he could easily hide them. "They're a coven of women who developed the Elixir of Life, something that can grant the drinker immortality."

"Fairy tales," Jack disagreed. "There's no such thing as immortality."

"You sound very confident for someone who once thought the tree dragons of the Gamma Forests were also a fairy tale," he pointed out, and Jack's mouth curved upwards as he accepted the point. "But the Elixir can also heal injuries: very serious injuries."

"It could heal Zoe?" Rose asked, straightening up.

"I think so," he nodded, excited at having hope again. "It brought me back to life a long time ago. I was dead when I was pulled from the wreckage of a ship that crashed on Karn, but the Sisterhood brought me back with the Elixir."

"This is great," Mickey enthused. "She's goin' to be okay."

"If the Sisterhood gives up the Elixir," he said, pulling a lever to stabilise their travel through the Vortex.

" _If_? Why wouldn't they?" Rose asked before her face dropped. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" He protested. "But Time Lords and the Sisterhood didn't really get on much. They were expelled from Gallifrey long, long ago and there's been bitterness ever since."

She sighed wearily. "Great."

The Doctor landed the TARDIS near the caves that the Sisterhood dwelled in. He left his ship alone, unwilling to let his friends step onto what was one of the rainiest, wettest, stormiest place he had ever had the misfortune of stepping foot on. Besides, he also didn't want the Sisterhood to meet his friends. He looked around at the wet, barren surroundings with its dark red rocks and russet earth that churned up mud beneath his feet. It was truly a dreary place, though he was grateful that it had survived the Time War. Although they had only survived through their own machinations and because they hadn't really taken part in it, though they were happy enough to enjoy Gallifrey's protection when they required it.

They had pulled strings and played their usual games but, when it came to it, they remained apart from the death and chaos of the war, protecting their Sacred Flame.

Resentment over their behaviour rose up within him as he stepped out of the rain under the shallow protection that the outer chamber of the cave offered.

From the shadows, a form emerged.

"Doctor," Ohila said, unchanged from their last meeting. "We did not expect to see you again. Rumours of your death had reached us."

"I survived," the Doctor said simply. "Everyone else died."

He refused to turn his head to the sky that was visible through the rain, knowing that he would be pained by what he wouldn't be able to find.

Karn was in the constellation of Kasterborous after all.

"A warrior indeed," the old crone said knowingly. He bit back the sharp retort that welled up; it made no sense to antagonise her when he sought her help. "What brings the Last of the Time Lords back to Karn?"

"I need your help," he said. Ohila's eyebrows rose in surprise. Behind her whispering broke out amongst her sisters who remained hidden from his sight in the dark shadows. "My friend is dying. She looked into the raw Untempered Schism and now her mind and body are tearing itself apart."

Ohila examined his expression closely before moving forward. Interest flickered across her face and, if they were able to save Zoe, he didn't like that they would have the knowledge of how important she was to him.

"Bring her to us,! she said, pulling back. "We will examine her."

"She can't leave the TARDIS," he said. "If she does, her mind will be destroyed."

"Very well, Time Lord," she replied, lowering her arms from in front of her stomach. Her sleeves fell down over her aged hands. "Lead me to her."

Despite the grave situation, he hesitated. It sat ill with him to lead one of the Sisters into his TARDIS, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He nodded and made his way back to his ship as Ohila walked behind him, unconcerned by the mud that made the path treacherously slippery. The door opened before he reached it and Rose was there, expression tight but hopeful; her eyes moved from him to Ohila. She opened her mouth to say hello but Ohila just swept past her. She swallowed her comment, deciding as the Doctor had that if the woman could save Zoe then it would be worth putting up with some rudeness. Jack stared at her in open fascination but said nothing, minutely shaking his head to Mickey to keep him silent.

"This way," the Doctor said, and all of them walked through the corridors to the Zero Room where Jackie paused in the middle of Wild Swans by Jung Chang. "We need a minute, Jackie."

She looked between him and Ohila, who was strangely garbed to Jackie's eyes, but she nodded and stood up. Ohila moved towards Zoe. She didn't bother looking at the medical readouts. Instead, she shook her sleeves back from her hands and placed the tips of her fingers against Zoe's face. Her eyes closed.

Jackie looked perplexed. "Who's she?"

"A very powerful woman," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on Ohila and Zoe. "Who has access to something that might just save Zoe."

She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "What's she doin'?"

"She's telepathic, of a sort," he explained. "Her people developed their telepathy more than mine did. She's looking to see what's wrong with Zoe."

He and Jackie stood side-by-side as Ohila explored the depths of Zoe's damaged mind. She pulled back after only a few minutes and shook her hands out as though trying to get rid of what she had seen. and he hurried her through the console room.

She turned her dark, disapproving eyes to the Doctor. "It is a miracle she is not already dead."

"She's strong."

"No one is strong enough to fight this forever," Ohila warned him. "You are extending her suffering by keeping her like this. It would be kinder to let her die."

"No," Jackie said angrily, tired of people telling her that her daughter was going to die. "She's goin' to live."

"Perhaps, perhaps not," she said, unconcerned by the anger. "I suppose it depends on your definition of alive."

The Doctor caught Jackie's elbow as she tensed and made to step forward. He held onto her despite her attempts to free herself.

"I will not let her die," he said darkly. "You have potions and secrets that I do not. Surely there must be something you have that can help her."

"It's already too late," Ohila said. "It was too late the moment she looked into the Untempered Schism. Her mind simply isn't equipped to deal with it. No potion or medicine in the universe can change that, including the Elixir of Life. Not even the Time Lords would have been able to help."

"You brought me back from the dead!" His voice rose in his anger and desperation. "You helped me become what I need for the War!"

"Yet the woman who was with you died," she reminded him. He flinched at the memory of Cass. "Her injuries were too severe even for the Elixir. Just as your friend's are now."

"I don't accept that."

"Accept it or not, it is the truth," Ohila said. "I'm sorry, Doctor, but she is already dead."

* * *

The Doctor was surprised by the large number of names Jack had to add to the list of people who might be able to help Zoe. It gave him an insight into his friend's life before meeting they met him in London and it wasn't something that he wanted to see again. The Time Agency was an ill-conceived idea at best and seeing the type of people that Jack called upon for favours only served to heighten his diastase for the whole organisation. However, if any one of the lowlife criminal miscreants with dubious connections had been able to help Zoe, he wouldn't have cared. As it was, Jack's list of names, favours, and questionable friends came up empty handed.

It wasn't as though the Doctor was having much luck either.

Since Ohila had been unwilling to even try giving the Elixir of Life to Zoe, he turned his focused back on the doctors, nurses, and scientists he had saved or worked with over the years. They were all willing to help and they filed into the TARDIS one-by-one to examine Zoe. The very best neurologists in every time and on every planet were consulted. He approached old enemies with offerings of peace if they would examine her, and he stepped back onto planets that he swore he would never set foot on again just for the chance that he might be able to save her. No one was able to help him though. They examined her and repeated what was becoming an extremely unpleasant refrain.

 _She was already dead._

Jackie had stopped listening in to the conversations after the eighteenth time someone spoke those words; instead, she just watched his face when he left the Zero Room before steeling herself to resume her position at Zoe's bedside. It was a position she moved from only to shower and use the bathroom; the rest of the time she was right there, sleeping at her daughter's side on a bed Rose had found for her in one of the abandoned guest rooms; she and Mickey had been able to get it into the Zero Room with a little help from the TARDIS.

The atmosphere onboard his ship was tense. It gave off the feeling of being at a terminal patient's bedside and the Doctor hated it.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Jack said when he reappeared in the console room in a crack of electricity that made the air sing, his hand falling away from his Vortex manipulator. "The _Tsuranga_ isn't able to help. The medics said the same as everyone else."

Familiar disappointment clenched his stomach but he nodded anyway.

"Thank you," he said, voice rough. "You should get some sleep. You look like shit."

He snorted softly but his mouth barely twitched as he walked past, eyes drooping. For the first time in the months of knowing him, Jack Harkness looked haggard. Dark, heavy bags under his eyes, and his cheekbones were more pronounced from weight loss as they had been working hard for five weeks without a single moment to breathe let alone eat properly. The Doctor watched him go before falling forward and dropping to his knees, resting his forehead against the edge of the console, arms splayed across it.

"This can't be it," he murmured to himself. "This can't be how it ends."

Professor Tyler twisted herself around in his mind, and he clung to that hope, ephemeral as it may be. He knew better than anyone that time could be rewritten. Zoe wasn't a fixed point in time, her existence wasn't essential to the structure of the universe no matter how necessary she was to his universe. Her future wasn't written in stone, and the future self he had seen and kissed and been tantalised by could simply never exist. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced his tired mind to think harder and harder when it hit him.

He had met Professor Tyler and he knew that she had met a future incarnation of himself.

He couldn't imagine a future where he wouldn't do anything he could to save Zoe Tyler and so he pulled himself up onto his feet. His fingers flew across the console as he sent a message to every and all future incarnations of himself, certain that one of them would show up.

It was cheating but he didn't care.

He waited and felt the hours tick by with such painful slowness that it felt as though he was being driven systematically insane. He tried to focus on anything but the passage of time – a feat he had never been good at achieving – and was counting the holes on the grating when the computer beeped. He surged forward and stared at the computer where temporal and geographical co-ordinates stared back at him. He fed it into the computer and urged the TARDIS to get there as fast as she could.

Before the TARDIS had finished its materialisation process, he was out the front door. He paused at the sight of the Louvre in front of him.

It made sense; Zoe loved Paris passionately, and during the year the two of them spent working through her grief, they would stop in Paris for milk and bread rather than visit London and risk running into anyone she knew.

His future self hadn't given him an exact meeting location but there was only one place that made sense for them to meet. Besides, if he got it wrong then his future self would still know where to find him – that was one of the benefits of dealing with the future.

He stomped into the Louvre and asked one of the employees where he could find the painting in question as the last time he was there he was with Zoe and had just followed her, not paying attention to his surroundings. He must have growled at the young man because the employee took a step back and, with wide eyes and a voice that shook slightly, he received the directions. He thought about apologising as Zoe would want him to do so. She often found herself exasperated by his manners, more so since her return from France. Her time in the court of Louis XV had refined her manners and behaviour, although she didn't seem to notice the changes. He grunted out an apology to the young man before he swept away.

He entered the room where the painting was held and made a beeline for her portrait in the corner of the room. No one was standing in front of it and no one nearby looked as though they were paying it any attention, for reasons that surpassed his understanding as it was, in his opinion, a masterpiece. He stood in front of the picture ,and Zoe looked down at him from her position on a bench outside Versailles.

He loved how happy and content she looked on the canvas.

It struck him quite abruptly and with no particular reason that Zoe had really, deeply loved Reinette.

He didn't know why he hadn't fully realised that before. He had had a front seat to the bitter pain of her grief after all but she was such a private woman. Although they shared their life with each other, some things she still kept to herself, just as he kept things to himself – moments, feelings, memories that he didn't want anyone to have as though it would somehow taint them if he shared them. He wondered if he had made her feel that she needed to keep the depth of her love hidden. He didn't think she knew how he felt about her but after centuries of travelling with Earth women he had learned not to assume anything about what a woman did or did not know.

He knew he hadn't been as discreet as he thought considering that both Jackie and Margaret called him out on it, and he also wouldn't put it past Zoe to protect his feelings in this regard. She could be brutally honest at times but as gentle as a newborn kitten at others. Even as he thought about it though, he felt that it was unlikely. Zoe was kind, but she also wasn't the type to manage other people's feelings for them. The truth of the matter was that she probably wanted to covet Reinette's love and keep it for herself. He could understand that. Years and years passed, his hair slowly turning white as his children grew older and had children of their own, before he could speak freely of Levokania without feeling a sharp stab of pain in his chest.

Reinette was a lucky woman.

He hoped she had known that before she died.

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" A Scottish voice asked from behind him. The Doctor turned and took in the man's appearance: black boots, chequered trousers, waistcoat, and jacket with a red silk lining.

"I've always thought so," the Doctor replied, unimpressed. "You're late."

"Maybe you're early," his future self replied, eyebrows unusually expressive. The future Doctor saw him watching them. "Yeah, attack eyebrows. With the accent, it's a bit much."

"We've had worse." he said, and his future self nodded knowingly, eyes flicking back to the painting.

"Sometimes I forget how young she was," the Doctor said, Scottish brogue wistful. "Her personality was always so much bigger than she was."

Anger and anxiety rippled through his chest. "Why are you talking in the past tense?"

"Because this is my past," he said. "And because that's how I talked in the memory I have of today. You know how it is – you've got to close the circle. It's why I agreed to meet with you, even though you already know this is a bad idea."

"I don't care," the Doctor said. "If it helps Zoe, I don't care."

"You know I can't help," he said, hands deep in his pockets. "You're breaking every rule we've ever made for ourself here."

"It's Zoe," the Doctor replied fiercely, and he took a step forward. "She's not just anyone. She's _Zoe_."

"I know who she is," he said, and there was an edge of gentleness that softened his features, making him seem approachable and kind, at odds with the angry eyebrows. "And I know how this ends. You won't find what you need from the future."

"Then tell me where I will find help!" The Doctor snapped, his fingers curling into a fist.

He couldn't remember every wanting to punch someone more.

"I can't do that," he said, eyeing the fist with caution. "Zoe's fate was decided hundreds of years ago for me – more really. It's the past. All of this, it's in the past. I can do nothing for her now."

Punching him was as satisfying as he thought it would be.

His future self's head jerked to one side. Security guards rushed towards them, yelling something that the Doctor couldn't hear over the surge of blood through his ears. He had hit yet another dead end from the one person he hoped would help him – himself. He turned away from his future with disgust crawling over him. He shouldered through the guards, anger pulsing within him like a living, breathing creature. It devoured every part of him and made him burn. He kept walking before he did something monumentally stupid like killing himself. Although, perhaps it would be worth it as a future where he didn't consider Zoe's life as paramount was not a future he wanted to move towards.

"You'll say the same when you're me!" His future self called after him, wiping blood from under his nose with the back of his hand as the guards hovered ineffectively between them. "You think you won't, but you will!"

"Go to hell," the Doctor snapped over his shoulder, storming out of the Louvre and back to the TARDIS.

* * *

Jackie watched the Doctor carefully change Zoe's colostomy bag. His hands were deft and practised. Not for the first time she wondered whether his name was truly an affectation or if he was actually a doctor. He was gentle with her daughter, talking to her about things that she herself had no reference point to understand. Trips to impossible and far-flung places filled the air around him as he reminisced, promising her that she would see the beaches of Drana again, and that he would finally take her to meet Cleopatra and _yes, she really is just a friend, don't say it_ because he thought the two of them would get on. It was the softest she had ever seen him and it hurt her heart to see him like that. She wasn't a cruel woman. She didn't enjoy seeing people in pain, particularly people who loved her daughters as much as he loved Zoe.

"You have to save her," Jackie said, interrupting his speech. He looked up at her, briefly startled as though he had forgotten that she was there. "You have to."

His throat moved when he swallowed. "I'm trying my best, Jackie."

"I know," she said. It was painfully obvious to everyone on the TARDIS that he wasn't sleeping and eating properly. He looked awful but no one dared to say anything to him because they all wanted him to do the impossible. "But you still have to save her."

His thumb rubbed across the papery skin of Zoe's forearm.

"Throughout all of this," he began slowly, "I keep thinking that the one person I need to help me solve it is Zoe. She'd just say something, and it would trigger something in my mind and I'd know exactly what I need to do." He huffed a humourless laugh. "Centuries I lived without knowing her, and all it took for her to become indispensable to me was a few years. She's like a bloody virus."

Jackie laughed. He looked so surprised that she laughed harder.

"What?"

"It's just...I used to call her that when she was little," Jackie said, her cheeks hurting after weeks of not laughing. "Her an' Rose both: _viruses_. Both of 'em get under your skin an' they grow and grow until you can't be without 'em."

He found himself smiling at her. "That sounds about right."

She touched her fingers to her face and wiped away the silent tears.

"My girls always go on 'bout how clever you are," she told him. "An' I've seen that. These last weeks, I've seen how smart you are. You've got a brain the size of a planet, an' you have to use it to save Zoe."

"Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy," the Doctor said. "Brain the size of the planet. I didn't know you..."

He trailed off before he was rude.

"Liked to read?" Jackie finished pointedly. Shame and embarrassment crept into his ears. "Who d'you think read to Zoe when she was little? There wasn't much to do as an unemployed single mother of two girls under five. An' the library was free."

"Sorry," he apologised, meaning it. "That was badly done of me."

She snorted. "It's not the worst thing you've ever said to me."

"Yeah," he said, unsettled. "But I honestly don't know what else I can do. I've exhausted every avenue that's left to me. My two best hopes have failed. For some reason my stupid future self won't help and the Sisterhood are their usual coven of uselessness. I don't know what to do."

"Didn't much like that woman myself," Jackie said, not sure why she was trying to comfort him. "How d'you know her anyway?"

He waved a hand, annoyed at the memory.

"My people exiled her lot back in the day. They were a cryptically annoying thorn in the side of Gallifrey until the War ended," he explained. He released Zoe's arm and slumped down into the plush armchair at her side. "They did bring me back from the dead once, and I'm sure the same could be done for Zoe if they weren't such pretentious –"

The word he said was in no language Jackie recognised but she could glean the meaning from his scowling face.

"Then let's steal it," Jackie said. He looked at her. "If it'll save Zoe, let's just steal it."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that," she told him. "Zoe told me how you stole the TARDIS."

"Of course she did," he said with a roll of his eyes. "And I'm all for stealing what we need but it won't work. The Elixir is made by the Sisterhood, and it's kept under close guard. There are various security protections in place specifically to prevent Time Lords from stealing it."

"But they brought you back from the dead," Jack protested, as though what she was saying made perfect sense. "Why won't they help her?"

"Because she's human," he said disparagingly. "Because she's considered unimportant in the vast scheme of the universe. Because they don't like me."

Jackie looked angry at his words.

He understood perfectly why. To the Sisterhood, she was just another human: disposable, interchangeable. If they knew her, if they knew how brilliant she was, how amazing her mind was, then they wouldn't be so quick to dismiss her. It was always the way, particularly amongst his people, who were also so adverse to outsiders.

"The only reason they brought me back from the dead was because they owed me a favour, and they wanted to change me," he said. "I needed to be a different man for the War that was happening otherwise they wouldn't have bothered. So they dragged me out from the wreckage and changed me."

One of the machines emitted a soft beep.

A small spark flared in his mind as his words resonated with an idea that began to push itself out of the dark recesses of his imagination. Jackie said something but he couldn't hear her. His thoughts began to lead him down a new and interesting path. Neurons fired against each other and his eyes flicked back and forth as he chased the thrilling idea.

"Are you even listenin'?" She demanded.

"No," he said. Her mouth tightened in displeasure. "Shut up a second. I think...maybe..."

He looked at his hands. He remembered how it felt to regenerate from the Doctor into the Warrior. He was still the same man but there was a resignation to him that came with accepting that he was going to fight. His mind ticked over faster and faster as a plan started to to form, clicking together like a puzzle piece.

Changed but different.

 _Change_.

"I - am - an - IDIOT!" The Doctor yelled, leaping to his feet. Jackie jumped violently. "Change! That's it! _Change_! That's what I need to do! I don't need to fix her – she can't be fixed – but I can help to change her. Change her cellular structure and programme the new cells to accept the changes that the Schism wants to make like a computer programme!"

"What?" Jackie asked, breathless from surprise.

"You were right, Jackie," he said, grinning widely at her and looking exactly as manic as he felt. "I am smart. I'm brilliant! I've got a brain the size of a planet and I'm going to save Zoe Tyler's life!

Excitement coursed through him. It would be dangerous and it would be painful but if it worked, it would _work_.

* * *

Many years ago, when she was much younger and enjoying a well-deserved break at a resort in France, Zoe hadn't existed.

She once tried to explain the sensation to Reinette but had fallen short as her vocabulary in both French and English hadn't been vast enough to describe how it felt to be pulled out of her life and left floating in the ether of non-existence.

Upon waking for the first time in six weeks, she found herself wishing that she didn't exist. She wished that she didn't have a body so as to avoid the hot rivers of pain that coursed through her. It felt as though her nerve endings had been flayed open and her mind riven with fire that scorched along her neural network and made her open her mouth to cry out in torment. Yet as soon as she felt the overwhelming pain – as soon as her bruised mind registered what she was feeling – it disappeared. Its departure was so abrupt that she grasped after it. Its absence left her bereft and cut adrift from what she knew. She didn't know where she was. She didn't even know if she was inside her own body. She couldn't feel anything. At least the pain meant that she was real, but everything felt as though it wasn't connected to her. Panic welled up inside of her and pushed up through her throat to emerge in a scream when the Doctor appeared in her line of vision.

She stared up at him, face open with horror.

"Zoe," he breathed, reaching a hand out to touch her head. His hand was so large that his palm covered the top of her skull. Her eyes flickered rapidly over him, trying to understand the changes in his appearance. His eyes were sunk back into his skull and dark circles of exhaustion ringed them. His appearance did nothing to abate her fear but the smooth motion of his thumb against her forehead helped to calm her. "We don't have much time. I need you to make a decision."

"What...hap-penned?"

She heard herself speak and was horrified. Her speech was slurred and halting. Gone was her natural fluency where the words spilled out of her mouth with neat precision like water flowing through an old riverbed. It sounded harsh and ugly, and she didn't recognise herself. There was movement at her side, and she tried to turn her head but she couldn't move an inch. Her mother appeared there, looking ill herself.

She didn't know what was happening and it frightened her.

"You looked into the Untempered Schism and it looked back into you," the Doctor told her. She didn't remember that. "You've got the whole of time and space trapped in your head with nowhere to go. It's a miracle you're not dead."

Her jaw moved and she struggled to force the word past her lips. "How?"

"You're in the Zero Room," he explained kindly but quickly. "It's helped to keep your mind frozen and to stem the tide of damage before it caused too much. We've all been working for the last few weeks to try and find a way to save your mind."

"Few - weeks?" Her eyes flickered back and forth and her face pulled into an anguished mask at more time that was unaccounted for.

The rest of her friends eased into view: Rose, Jack, Mickey. The three of them had the same tight, worried look that was dripping from the Doctor and Jackie.

"I want to explain everything but there's not enough time," the Doctor said at the same moment that she realised she was suspended in midair. A whimper escaped her throat and her heart pounded faster; one of the monitors beeped faintly in the background.

Jackie brushed the Doctor's hand away from her forehead and took his place. "I know you're scared, sweetheart, but the Doctor can save you. He's found a way."

Her eyes flicked back and forth between her mother and the Doctor, confused. "What?"

"I think I have a way to save you," the Doctor clarified, "but I'm not sure it'll work. It's never been tried before. In fact, there were laws on Gallifrey that specifically prevented people from doing what I want to do, and if I fail, you'll die."

She stared up at him. "You...do...no-thing?"

"Then you'll die. That's beyond doubt now," he said roughly, shaking his head and looking agonised. Jackie pressed her lips tightly together and her eyes turned glassy. "I've tried everything. I've called in every favour I have – so has Jack – but I couldn't find a way to save you. This is it. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Your...plan?"

The guilt that spilt out of him irritated her. She was dying and he was wasting time with sentimentality. She wanted to tell him to stop but it would take too many words and too much effort to explain herself.

He drew a shaking hand over his face, and Jack rested his hand on the Doctor's back as he drew closer to give his support.

Everyone she loved was in the room and it helped to lessen her fear.

"There's a device on the TARDIS that can rewrite Time Lord biology and make it something else," the Doctor explained. "Normally it's used only in extreme situations when it's necessary need to hide what I am; I've been able to alter it for your biology."

Confusion slipped across her face.

"We're going to change your biology so that your brain can accept what it saw," Jack explained, his voice warm and comforting. She realised his hand was on her knee. "It's like making more space in your house by changing the interior. You know, knock a wall down here and build another wall there. You'll still be the same person but you'll just have more space in your brain for what you've seen."

The Doctor nodded at him, grateful.

She looked to her mother, and Jackie let her tears fall down her cheeks. She wasn't wearing makeup, and it made her look tired.

"This is the best chance you have," Jackie said, sniffing. Her hand stroked back the thick brown curls on the top of Zoe's head. "Because you're dyin', love. You're goin' to die if he doesn't do this. So, you need to do this, okay? You need to do this."

Rose approached the end of Zoe's body, Mickey at her side, and took hold of her feet. "You're goin' to be okay, Zo."

She looked back to the Doctor and took in his expression. She understood that it probably wasn't possible and that he was grasping at straws. For all that he was experienced of it, he was never very good at accepting death.

"Dan-ger?"

"The Chameleon Arch wasn't designed for humans," he said. "And no matter the alterations I've made, this might kill you faster. I'd say there's a 12% chance this could work, and even if it does work...I have no idea what the consequences will be. I could be condemning you to a short and ugly life. Your memories could disappear. Your ability to speak, to understand. It's very dangerous."

She closed her eyes against his words. The choice was clear. She could let him do the procedure and have a less than 12% chance at a normal life, or she could refuse the procedure and die the Zoe Tyler that she was in that moment.

"Zoe..." he said, swallowing hard. "I can't make this decision for you. None of us can. I need you to tell me what to do. _Please_. Tell me what to do."

Her eyes opened. Had she ever noticed how blue his eyes were before? It was an odd thing to pay attention to in that moment but she found herself drawn in by the clear brightness of them.

"How...long...un-til...I...die...with-out...help?"

"If you stay conscious and in this room?" The Doctor said. "Thirty-one minutes."

 _Thirty-one minutes_ she thought. She wondered if she could be brave for thirty-one minutes and face her death courageously. She hoped she would be. She would hate for her family's last memory of her to be kicking and screaming against the injustice of it all. She wanted to face her death calmly like Reinette. Fresh grief soared through her but it was lined with hope. Reinette had believed in God. She believed that there was an afterlife, and after all Zoe had seen and done she knew better than to discount such a possibility. Perhaps she would get to see her wife again and they could have eternity together in whatever life came after death.

It was such a sweet thought.

Yet something else crept in and soured the sweetness in her mind.

Jackie.

Rose.

Mickey.

Jack.

The Doctor.

She loved them all with more fierceness than she had ever been able to put into words. Her death would break their hearts. They would live the rest of their lives without her there to share in them. They would be fine. She knew they would. They would mourn her as she mourned Reinette, but they would go on and live their lives and be happy even though she wasn't there with them. Rose and Mickey would have children – maybe together, maybe not; nieces and nephews that she would never meet. Jack would eventually leave the TARDIS to follow his own adventurous dreams, or even surprise them all and settle down. The Doctor would keep moving forward, as he always did, and she would be a warm memory limned with pain as he grew older and older and his face changed time and again.

Jackie would never really recover. She had seen what it did to parents who outlived their children. Her mother was the strongest woman Zoe knew but losing a child had the capacity of to destroy anyone regardless of emotional fortitude. She would live her life and become a grandmother and be happy but she wouldn't be the woman that she was now. A different Jackie Tyler would walk away from her daughter's deathbed never to be seen again.

She didn't want to die.

She wanted to live and see those nieces and nephews. She wanted to watch Rose, Mickey, and Jack get married. She wanted Jackie to finally find a partner who would treat her well. She wanted family dinners and wild adventures. She wanted to see where her future would take her, and she wanted the Doctor to come and visit her throughout his very long life so that he always had a safe harbour, a place to call home.

She knew the choice Reinette would make, and that made it easier for her. Her wife would choose life, every time, and Zoe wouldn't dishonour her wife's memory by not fighting.

Death wasn't going anywhere; they would see each other again.

"Do...it," she panted hard to get the words out once she made her decision. Hope sprung across his face like a fresh water well breaking through the hard soil. "Twelve...per-cent...bet-ter...than...no-thing."

His mouth parted and his eyes were bright. "Are you sure?"

"If...I...die..." she got out. "Don't...blame...your-self." His head twisted, unable to make that promise. "And...bu-ry me...with...Rein-ette."

Rose turned her face away and into Mickey's chest; his arm came around her. Jackie let out one solitary sob by her head.

"Of course," the Doctor promised, tears slipping down his own cheeks. He made no effort to wipe them away.

She marvelled that such a man, who had seen so much and fought gods and demons, would cry over her.

Her throat felt as though it was on fire. It was getting harder to talk. The effort it took to think of the words and pull them out of her strained mind was making her head ache. She curled her fingers against the edge of his sleeve and made sure she had his attention before she spoke again.

"Thank...you...for...the...stars." A small sob sprung from his throat. He leaned in close and pressed his lips against her forehead. Her eyes moved around to the rest of her family. "I love...you...all...so much. Don't...forget...that."

"I love you, baby girl," Jackie cried as she leaned over and kissed her too. "I love you so much. Okay? I love you?"

"You've got this, Zoe," Jack said, holding it together better than the others but only just. His lips were soft against her forehead.

"Don't you dare die," Rose said fiercely, embracing her. "Don't you fuckin' dare."

"I love you," Mickey whispered to her when he kissed her last. Her fingers twitched and caught hold of his shirt. He stilled.

"Look...after...them," she breathed, and his face softened in pain. "Please."

"Always," he promised. "I'll take care of Rose an' Jackie, I promise."

She managed a tremulous smile.

"I'm going to put you back to sleep now," the Doctor said once everyone had finished with what no one was calling their final goodbyes. "I'll see you again when you wake up."

She blinked slowly and heavily at him, unable to do anything else.

Her family stood around her as she slipped back into unconsciousness. As soon as her body relaxed, Rose let out the deep sobs that she had kept locked away. She pressed her hands to her mouth and buried herself in Mickey's arms.

"I'm sorry!" She choked around her grief. "I just – it's –"

"It's okay," Jack said, moving to comfort her on her other side. He slid a hand soothingly up and down her back and put his arm around her and Mickey both. "We're all feeling it."

Jackie wiped at her face and looked to the Doctor. "Well? We goin' to do this?"

The Doctor looked back at her as a black fear gripped him. The possibility of failure was so high that it scared him in a way few things had before. He had held the bodies of too many people he loved after their deaths – the ghosts of Susan and Romana already haunted him; he didn't want Zoe's ghost to be added to that nightmarish lineup. He looked away from Zoe's mother and focused on the equipment that had been transferred from the console room. Zoe wouldn't survive the trip from the Zero Room to the console room and so he had had to bring what he needed to her.

He fiddled with the modified head gear.

In one hour, he might have saved her or he might be cradling her lifeless body in his arms as he screamed his grief into the void.

"Right," he said roughly. "Jack, I need a hand."

"How badly is this goin' to hurt her?" Mickey asked, holding Rose close.

"It's going to be the single worst pain she's ever felt," the Doctor said, not looking at them as he carefully placed the head gear onto Zoe's head whilst Jack stripped the IV line and parenteral nutrition line from her arms. "She'll be unconscious but that won't stop her from screaming. I really recommend that none of you are here for that."

"I'm not leavin' her," Jackie said fiercely, not at all surprising the Doctor.

"Me neither," Rose sniffed, using Mickey's T-shirt to dry her red-rimmed eyes.

Jack just shrugged, tenderly tucked Zoe's riotous curls beneath the metal of the apparatus so the Doctor could attach the wires to her temples. "You need me if something goes wrong."

"Guess we're all stayin'," Mickey said, sick but determined.

By the time the Doctor and Jack finished hooking Zoe up to the Chameleon Arch, wires flowed out of her. She looked half-human, half-machine. The Doctor stared down at her and exhaled slowly. He had spent the last week checking and rechecking that everything was fine and that his calculations were correct and his alterations to the Chameleon Arch were done properly. They were as ready as they were ever going to be.

"We're ready," he said. "Everyone knows what to do and what not to do. As soon as I flick the switch, no one can touch her. If we confuse the Chameleon Arch with another biological reading, no matter how faint, everything could go wrong."

Rose didn't look at him. "We know this."

"It's worth repeating," he said. "Because she's going to scream and writhe, and we're going to want to help her but we _cannot_ touch her. We just have to let it run its course."

"We know, Doctor," Jack said. "We're ready."

He wasn't, though he doubted he would ever be emotionally ready for the risk that they were taking.

"Just do it," Jackie said, steely eyed. He looked to her. "It's time to do it, so do it."

The Doctor drew in a slow, deep breath. He grasped hold of the 12% hope and flipped the switch.

Zoe's body immediately convulsed. Her limbs jerked and flailed away from her body, and she strained against an invisible force. Her teeth clamped down, and her jaw tightened. Her entire face was a knot of agony. She was suspended that way, like a mote of dust in a sunbeam, for one long, quivering moment of tense silence. They all stood frozen, watching her, waiting for the worst to come.

A loud wail pushed out from her closed throat. Her mouth opened, and the sound filled the room. It went straight through him and settled in his bones. The sound was pure pain with nothing to dilute it. It filled every part of the room and their bodies as she stretched, twisted, and arched in an attempt to flee from it. It chased her everywhere and pulled her back in for more whilst her skin rippled as her wasted muscles seized and contracted.

There was nothing any of them could do but stand there as witness and watch her suffer.


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter Fifty**

Her heart stopped on six separate occasions under the strain of what was happening to her before it restarted by itself. The Doctor was certain that each time was going to be the last time but her body powered through as she fought desperately to cling to life. Eventually her screaming did stop but only because her throat was stripped raw by it. Her body stopped convulsing, and her limbs settled exhaustedly where she lay. She was so still that he feared she was dead. No one moved as they looked at her, waiting for another round of full-body convulsions that didn't come.

Jack started breathing again, not aware he had been holding his breath. He sucked in a great drag of air, breaking the silence in the room. His chest rose and fell as the oxygen rushed back through his system and cleared his head. He looked to the Doctor for instructions.

"Unhook her," the Doctor ordered, and Jack moved forwards to do so with trembling hands.

"Is it over?" Rose whispered with a pale-white face and eyes that were swollen and heavy. "Is she...alive?"

The Doctor wet his lips. "Yes."

Against all odds the, Zoe lived.

 _Just._

"Is she...normal?" Jackie asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She hadn't moved an inch since the screaming started and she didn't seem able to move now that it was at an end. "Her mind? Has she lost her memories?"

"We won't know until she wakes up," the Doctor said. He carefully pried the head gear from the top of Zoe's head revealing a burn mark spread in a line across her forehead where the energy had raced through the metal and seared her skin. "But looking at the preliminary scan, her mind seems to be doing what it should be right now."

The machines only told him so much though. They told him what was changed and her current vitals but he wouldn't know how _Zoe_ had changed until he could speak to her.

Memory loss.

Madness.

A whole new personality.

He would know nothing until she woke up, and the uncertainty rested ill in his stomach. Regardless though, whatever the outcome was, it was significantly preferable than organising her funeral and watching as her coffin was lowered into the ground next to her wife's. He could help her regain her memories; he could work to tame whatever madness rolled through her; and he was certain that he would love whatever new personality emerged from the change. She was alive, and that meant that everything was going to be okay.

The universe had to give him this win. After everything he had lost in order to keep it safe, he deserved this one win.

Jackie inched closer to her daughter, more hesitant than the Doctor had ever seen her. "Can I touch her?"

"Yes," he said softly, watching as she seized Zoe's hand before sharply pulling back with a pained sound. Instantly, he was at her side. "What?"

She sucked her fingers into her mouth and spoke around them. "Electric shock."

He reached out and touched Zoe's dry, ashy skin – papery from her long illness. He grunted at the frisson of energy that rolled into his skin. He didn't correct Jackie but it wasn't electricity that she felt; it was the energy from the change that was spreading through her daughter one cell at a time. Her body would finish changing before her mind as there were less changes to make in her body as the only thing he had needed to alter within her was to tweak her metabolism so that it ran quicker in order the larger processing power of her post-change brain.

He didn't expect her to regain consciousness for some time. He hoped weeks but he suspected that months would be more likely. Her mind needed the certainty of unconsciousness and the lack of new input in order to heal and shape itself anew. Her body also needed time to recover from the battle it'd been put through, and she desperately needed to regain her fat and muscle mass.

Having never heard, seen, nor done such a thing to a non-Gallifreyan before, he didn't know what was going to come next; however, she was one step closer to being okay again, and that was all that he cared about for now.

"We'll take it in shifts," the Doctor said, removing his hand from Zoe's and flexing his fingers to try and regain the feeling in them. "It'll probably be weeks before she wakes up. No sense in us all sitting here. You should all go get some rest. I'll sit with her."

"Absolutely not," Jackie said. His eyes swung to her. He was too tired to even begin to brace for a fight with her. "You look like you're 'bout ready to drop dead. Go have a shower an' a shave. Sleep if you do sleep, an' then get somethin' to eat."

"You do look like shit," Mickey agreed, and the Doctor snorted softly.

He rubbed his jaw with the palm of his hand and felt the rough bristles of his unshaven skin. It had been a while since he had properly shaved, and slept. He looked down at Zoe, reluctant to leave her, and hesitated.

"Go," Jackie ordered as though she didn't look as bad as he did. "You're doin' no one any good goin' 'round like the walkin' dead."

"I think I prefer it when you yell at me," the Doctor grumbled. "It's weird you being caring."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't get used to it."

It was said without the sharp bite he was accustomed to. Part of him distantly wondered if she was softening towards him after six weeks of close proximity and necessary medical conversations. He didn't know what he would do if they became friends. The very thought of it was unsettling.

"C'mon," Rose said, holding out her hand to him. "I'll make you a cup of tea – nice and strong, just like you like it."

The cup of tea, shower, and shave did much to help him feel like he was in control again, yet nothing was as helpful as the deep sleep he fell into after stepping out of the shower and collapsing, wet and naked, onto the surface of his unmade bed. Time Lords were able to get by on as little as one-hour's sleep a night – often less – and sometimes nothing at all for days on end, but he slept deeply and without dreams for twelve glorious hours. He woke up well-rested with his cheek resting against the drool-soaked cotton of his pillow case.

He pulled away with a grimace.

He threw on some clothes and walked through the TARDIS whilst trailing his fingers against the walls of his ship. He silently thanked her for all she had done to keep Zoe safe and alive over the last month and a half. He stopped in at the Zero Room to check in on his patient and found Jack slumped in a chair at her side; his eyes drooped dangerously, and he jerked straighter when he saw him framed in the doorway. The Doctor waved him off and so Jack remained slack and tired in the chair.

"You look better," he noted, running a hand through his hair as he tried to put it to rights. "Finally sleep?"

"Yeah," the Doctor said, checking the readouts: only minute changes in line with what he expected. "Jackie?"

"Rose was able to get her into bed about three hours ago." He showed the back of his pink throat as he yawned. "You did the bloody impossible, you know? For a second there, I was worried we'd have to say goodbye to her."

"For a second there, so was I," he admitted, resting his hand on the bare skin of Zoe's arm to feel the burn of energy beneath her. The strength was still there but lesser than before, which was a good sign. "She still needs to wake up first though, and so many things could still be wrong. Things I may not be able to fix."

"She'll wake up," Jack said confidently. The Doctor looked across at him. "Think about everything she's overcome so far: torture, being stranded for six years in the past, the death of her wife...now tell me that you think think _this_ is going to be the thing that beats her."

The Doctor tipped his head a little at the obvious faith and optimism. "I hope you're right, Jack. I really do."

"Courage, Doctor," he said in his warm, comforting voice. "We just need to have courage and a little bit of faith."

"I don't believe in any god."

"Faith in science," Jack corrected himself. "Faith in your abilities, and faith that Zoe Tyler is as strong as we all believe she is."

Faith in science and faith in Zoe.

Two things the Doctor could easily get behind.

"I appreciate your optimism," he said honestly, "but go and get some rest yourself. I'll sit with her." Jack pressed his hands against the arm rests and pushed himself up, stumbling a bit from tiredness. He made his way towards the door when a thought struck the Doctor. "Jack?"

The man turned back to him.

"Thank you," the Doctor said with all the sincerity he had inside of him. "For everything. I couldn't have done this without you."

Jack's face softened; he looked pleased and touched. "It's what friends do, Doc."

"Don't call me that."

"Yeah," he smiled slowly, "I'm not giving you a say in the matter. _Doc_."

The Doctor watched him go before he let the smile, which had been threatening to break free, spread across his face. Jack Harkness was a ridiculous man but the Doctor was grateful that he was onboard the TARDIS nonetheless. Meeting him in London had been a happy turn of events for all involved as the Doctor couldn't imagine Jack not being there; he fit into the group perfectly and rounded them out to make them feel full and complete.

He moved and took Jack's seat that was still warm from his body. He turned his thoughts away from Jack and back to where they normally lay – on Zoe. He leaned forward so as better to examine her sunken, gaunt face. He smoothed her hair back from her temple.

"I need you to be okay," the Doctor said quietly to her still form. "I need you to wake up and be okay because there are things I need to tell you. Things that I should have told you before but I was too afraid. So, please, Zoe, wake up and be okay. For me. Please."

The machine gave a soft beep in response.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head over her, and waited.

It was where Rose found him when she came to relieve him several hours later. They passed off the seat with a smile and a hug, and the days began to unfold like so. There was someone with Zoe at all times. They set up an easy, rotating system so that everyone could get some sleep and do things for themselves. With each day that passed where Zoe didn't worsen but rather began to show improvement, Jackie finally began to relax aboard the TARDIS, though the Doctor suspected she would never really feel at home there; he knew that Jack was taking her under his wing, so to speak. He was worried that Jack was flirting with her, but Rose laughed when he brought it up when they were doing the washing up.

She laughed so hard that tears streamed from her eyes, and the Doctor felt more than a little offended.

"No, no," Rose said once she had got herself back under control, her pale skin flushed with amused colour. "Jack's just bein' nice this time. He said he knows what us 21st century people are like. Besides, he's got his eye on Mickey."

The Doctor huffed a laugh at that visual, and he dropped a kiss onto the top of her head that made her smile brightly up at him.

Now that Zoe was no longer at any risk of dying, and they were simply waiting for her to wake up so that they could assess the damage and move forwards, there was a brighter, lighter atmosphere to the TARDIS. The Doctor was able to focus on repairs to his ship as a few secondary circuits were fried from transmitting the radio frequency he had used to disable the Cybermen. It was his fault really as he should have replaced them sooner but he had kept putting the task off. Jack took Rose and Mickey out drinking on a Rekkan Space Station and whilst Jackie was invited, she shied away from stepping foot outside the TARDIS on anywhere that wasn't Earth given what had happened the last time she ventured out into the unknown. Not that she needed to leave the TARDIS as she was making the most of the relaxation pool and the library; she seemed about as content as she was going to get whilst onboard.

It was a lovely, warm, congenial atmosphere; the Doctor wished that Zoe was awake to see just how well all the people she loved were getting on with each other.

"I swear, six feet tall and with big tusks," Jack said three weeks later as they all sat around Zoe's bed. They tended to gather in her room at the end of the day so that they could all be together and not feel as though anyone had to miss out.

"You're lying through your teeth!" The Doctor pointed at him with an accusing finger even as the lines in the corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter. "You've got to be!"

"I am not!"

Rose pressed her hands over her face, red with laughter, and shook her head. "I'd have gone bonkers! Absolutely, completely bonkers!"

"I mean," Jack continued through the gales of laughter, "it turns out the white things are tusks, and I mean _tusks_! And it's woken, and it's really not happy."

Jackie leaned into Mickey, shaking with rasping laughter. "How d'you not know it was there though? It was so big!"

"It was easy to miss!" He defended himself, setting them all off laughing again. "And we're standing there, all fifteen of us, naked as the day we were –"

The machines around Zoe started beeping loudly, and Jack snapped his mouth shut so sharply that his teeth clacked together. The Doctor rose from his seat smoothly and stepped up to her side where he put a hand against her skin. She felt normal, or at least as normal as she could feel under the circumstances. Beneath her eyelids, her eyes were moving in the first sign of dawning consciousness for three weeks. The others were silent behind him as he examined Zoe, the atmosphere turning on a knife's edge, and his eyes focused on the readouts that swirled before him in Gallifreyan. Her blood pressure and heart rate were more or less normal if he allowed for the slight change that came with having parts of her biology rewritten. He slid his hand down her arm and rested his fingers against her pulse point on the delicate inside of her wrist.

Her pulse thrummed slightly quicker than normal.

"Doctor?" Rose asked hopefully. "Is she –?"

"I think she's beginning to wake up," the Doctor said, careful not to sound to elated for fear of raising their hopes in case he was wrong. "She's shifted into REM sleep now."

Jackie stood up. "What's that mean?"

"She's sleeping normally," he told her. "She's not in a coma any more."

"That's good?" Mickey asked. "'Cause it sounds good but it might not be good."

Jack's mouth twitched fondly. "It's good. REM sleep is the good kind of sleep. It helps us to dream and process information. This is a really, really good thing."

Rose and Mickey exhaled with identical relief.

"She'll wake up soon?" Jackie asked, directing her question towards the Doctor.

"It looks like it," he said, and Jackie smiled at him, relief etched onto her face. She reached out and seized his arm, squeezing just above the elbow. He covered her hand with his and smiled back at her. "But don't get your hopes up. She might still have been changed."

"I know, I know," she said with a roll of her yes. "Memory loss, madness, an' the like. Let me be hopeful for a little bit, eh?"

He tipped his head in acceptance. "Okay."

Her proper waking didn't happen the next morning or even the morning after that.

For some time she dipped in and out of consciousness with varying degrees of lucidity. The first time it happened, he looked up from his book that he was reading to her to find her eyes wide open and staring at him. The blank, uncomprehending look in her eyes terrified him, but it filled him with hope even though she didn't respond to his voice or his touch. Her eyes responded to light stimuli when he pointed a small torch into them and her pupils contracted rapidly before she fell asleep between one blink and the next. It wasn't a lot but it was more than any of them had had in months and so was a cause for celebration that night.

The next day, she opened her eyes to peer up at Jack before blinking them in quick succession and then falling back to sleep.

Her hand twitched in Rose's grasp shortly after that, and her leg jerked under her blanket mere hours later.

Her body seemed to be running through a checklist the way a computer did when it was rebooted, and they just needed to be patient. By the end of that first week that had begun with her eyes opening, her body had tested every limb and every extremity; her eyes opened, and remained open, for hours at a time as she gazed around the room. The Doctor wasn't sure she could hear him or anything around her but he pulled a TV into the room and put Star Trek on for her anyway. She watched it as she normally did: quietly and without speaking. He wasn't certain she actually knew what she was watching but he felt that the visual stimuli and audio would help whatever her mind was trying to accomplish.

When her fingers seemed to twitch in want of something, Rose slid a pad of blank paper onto her lap and put a pencil in her hand. It jerked across the page in nonsensical scribbles, but one day Jackie looked down at it and saw that she had sketched the outline of a face. With each day that passed, the face grew more distinct. The Doctor realised with a jolt that she was drawing her wife as Reinette Poisson looked out from the page to confirm everyone's desperate belief and hope that Zoe was still there. Page after page was filled with drawings of Reinette and various parts of her body - hands, feet, legs, breasts, eyes - before she filled the entire book in a matter of days.

Rose got her a new one and she started afresh in that one.

Slowly Reinette faded away and Rose and Jackie took her place. The Doctor's own features stared back at him more than once; Jack's grin, and Mickey's smile; the TARDIS as viewed from the outside; the Palace of Versailles; Louis XV; the bridge of an Alfasi ship; Okana; the Powell Estate; Harriet Jones; a Dalek; a glittering-jewel tree from Tolandra; Yatta Jol; the seas of Drana; and the Slitheen.

She filled the pages with her memories, and everyone watched as she tried to find her way out of her mind.

"'It was a novelty to be waited upon, but he did it so quietly and made such a little show that it seemed a natural, everyday occurrence, and Mary was without embarrassment,'" the Doctor read from his copy of Jamaica Inn by Daphne du Maurier as her hand stilled on the pages in front of her. It was the middle of the night by London standards, and everyone else was sleeping. "'Hannah lives in the village,' he said; 'she leaves every afternoon at four. I prefer to be by myself. I like getting my own -'"

"Doc-tor."

The words of the book froze in his mouth, and he looked up. Her hand was still, and she was looking at him. They were suspended in silence for a long moment. His surprise rendered him speechless until she repeated her name with less trouble.

"Doctor."

"Zoe," he breathed, and the book fell from his hands as he surged forwards. She looked almost as surprised as he felt. "You're here. You're really here."

"I..." she started, and her eyes darted from left to right quickly. "I'm not dead."

"No," he laughed on a breath, "no, you're not."

"What...?" She looked down at her hand. The pencil fell from her fingers with a soft thud onto the pad. "What am I doing?"

"You were drawing your memories," he said. "They're on the pages of this book and a number of others like it. Do you remember anything?"

She shook her head slowly as though uncertain of her strength. "No. I just woke up."

"That's okay, that's fine," he reassured her, moving the sketchpad and pencil out of the way before just looking at her. He drank her in. "Tell me how you feel."

"Confused," Zoe admitted. "And achy, and very weak. What happened?"

"I did the procedure," he told her. "And it worked. I can't believe it - but it worked. You're here, and you're talking. This is – Zoe, this is a miracle."

"What procedure?"

He stilled. Cautiously, he probed at her. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"There was a Cyberman," she said with a frown, sifting through the dark shadows of her memory. "It was coming for me. I was trying to get away without looking at or touching the Untempered Schism. I know that you were trying to reach me, and I think I fell. I saw you, and I heard Jack, and I – I remember grabbing hold of you. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me and then - and then..."

Her words trailed off into a deep frown.

"I don't remember anything after that," she finished. She looked into his face, concerned. "What happened to me?"

The question didn't surprise him as the point of trauma was normally the first thing that the brain wiped clean when it tried to heal, but he wasn't sure how to explain what had happened to her. He pulled the chair closer and reached out, taking her hand in his. Her bony fingers curled around the edge of his palm, and he revelled in the feeling of her responsiveness. Slowly and carefully, he told her what had taken place from the moment she looked into the Untempered Schism: his and Jack's attempts to find a solution; the dangerous, experimental cure he had thought of, and their conversation when she was half an hour from death.

"And you've been in a coma for the last three weeks," he said finally, rubbing his thumb over the pronounced bumps of her knuckles. "We've just been waiting for you to wake up. I should – the others will want to see you. They've barely left your side. Your mum's been beside herself with worry."

She looked surprised. "Mum's still onboard?"

"Like she'd leave you whilst you were sick," he scoffed. "We haven't exactly buried the hatchet, but things are a little easier between us now."

"I should nearly die more often."

"Please don't joke about that," he said quickly, and she looked into his face. "You were so close to death, Zoe, and I still don't know what the effects of the procedure will be."

"I'll be fine," she told him, closing her eyes as tiredness swept over her. She forced them open and managed to smile at him. "Do you think I'll ever remember it?"

"I don't know," the Doctor said honestly. "I have no idea what you'll remember. What I did to you – it's never been done before. You might remember, you might not. It might be better if you never remember. To have looked into the Untempered Schism - it changes a person."

"Apparently I've already been changed," Zoe said lightly. She missed the look of guilt that appeared on his face. "You don't think I'll grow an extra head, do you? Like a space head?"

He couldn't help but smile. "I doubt you'll grow an extra head."

She looked at him and gave his hand a squeeze. "Thank you. You saved my life. Again."

"Always," he promised, bringing her knuckles to his mouth and pressing his lips against them. "Do you feel up to company? The others won't forgive me if I don't tell them you've woken up."

"Go on then," she said around a yawn, blinking away her surprise with faint amusement in her eyes. "Don't know how much longer I'll be awake."

"You'll probably drop off in the middle of sentences for a while to come yet," he told her, "but I promise I won't take it personally."

"I do feel tired," she admitted. It was an unusual sensation to have exhaustion slam into her so suddenly. Normally there were warning signs but one moment she felt fine, and the next she felt as though her eyes were going to dry up in her skull and her head pulsed with the desire to sleep. "But I'm awake."

"Not for much longer you're not," he said, standing up. He helped her lie down in her bed, and he removed the extra pillows that had been helping her sit up. "Go back to sleep. The others can see you in the morning."

"Mum'll yell," she warned him.

"Let her," he said with a careless shrug as he tucked her in. "Your mum doesn't scare me."

A laugh caught on the edges of her lips. "Liar."

"Ssh," he soothed, hand on her head. "Go back to sleep."

She caught hold of his hand and looked up at him through tired eyes. "Stay with me?"

His face softened. "Of course."

Unable to stay awake any longer, she slipped into sleep, and the Doctor stood above her and stared down at her. Exhausted from his own vigil and the weeks-long fear that she would die or be drastically changed, he sat down in his armchair and pressed his face into his hands. His shoulders heaved, and his body shook with silent, gasping sobs as the emotions rushed through him and rendered him insensible.

She was alive, and _finally_ he could see light at the end of the very dark tunnel.

* * *

Days later, Zoe was propped up in her own bed, fully conscious and more or less in tact. She was wrapped in two of the Doctor's jumpers in order to try and keep her body heat where it should be, and she had hot water bottles placed in the bed around her. Her hands were clad in thick gloves, and her feet smothered with slippers, and on the top of her head was a Christmas-themed bobble hat. As she was so gaunt, it was important that she stay as warm as possible. She made very few complaints about having to be drowned in soft, warm material as the cold was unpleasant and she had no spare calories to lose through shivering.

"And then what happened?" She asked eagerly.

"So all fifteen of us were naked," Jack said with wide hand gestures, finishing the story he had started days ago.

"Naked?!" Rose exclaimed, sleeve-covered hands pressed over her mouth as she laughed.

"And I'm like, oh, no, no, it's got nothing to do with me." He shook his head, holding his hands up in front of him. "And then it _roars,_ and we are running. Oh my God, we are running! And Brakovitch falls, so I turn to him and I say –"

"I knew we should've turned left!" Mickey finished for him.

Jack turned to him with eyes that were wide with betrayal and laughter. "That's my line!"

The four of them fell about laughing. Zoe pressed her hands against her chest and stomach as she leaned into Rose, laughing. It hurt her face, her muscles unused to such an activity after weeks of atrophy, but she didn't want to stop. She was inordinately tired, but if she fell asleep then she would miss speaking with her friends, and she didn't want to do that. She was desperately trying to catch up on the last few months, but it was difficult as so much had happened, but so little had happened as well. It didn't help that she kept falling asleep in the middle of a conversation either.

"I don't believe you. I don't believe a word you say ever." Rose gasped, wiping at the tears under her eyes. "That is so brilliant. Did you ever get your clothes back?"

"No, I just picked him up went right for the ship, full throttle," he explained with a wide grin. "Didn't stop until I hit the space lanes. I was _shaking._ It was unbelievable. It freaked me out, and by the time I got fifteen light years away I realised I'm, y'know, naked."

"You're such an idiot," Zoe laughed brightly. He beamed at her. "It actually explains a lot about you."

"Hey!" He reached over and took a handful of blueberries from the bowl in front of her. She was meant to be eating them but her appetite was see-sawing between the two extremes: ravenous hunger and gorged to the point of illness. He tossed them into his mouth. "Not all my missions ended with me naked."

Her eyes flashed with laughter. "Just most of them."

"Only if I was lucky," he said, and she laughed again. "Besides, you must have ended up naked at least once in all your time in France. I've been to France. The French are delightful no matter what the century."

Zoe's smile stretched across her face. "Reinette and I did go skinny dipping once."

"Zoe Tyler!" Rose exclaimed. "I didn't think you had it in you."

Mickey groaned. "I'm not sure I want to hear this."

"I'm sure I do," Jack replied, waving a hand at Mickey and leaning forward, bright with curiosity. "Tell me everything. Spare no details."

"Mickey, kick him for me, would you?" Zoe requested, too weak to do it herself. Mickey was happy to oblige. Jack pouted as he rubbed his calf. "And it wasn't much of anything, but we'd had a little too much to drink one night, and I suggested we go for a walk around the gardens. Normally there were servants everywhere but it was very late at night and I'm very sneaky, so we got out without anyone noticing. It was Reinette's idea to strip off and we splashed about in a fountain for a while."

"I'm enjoying that mental image," Jack told her, and Mickey kicked him again. "Stop with the kicking!"

"Stop thinking about her naked," Mickey replied. A sound from the doorway had them all looking up to see the Doctor paused in the doorway, clearly having heard that.

"What the hell are you lot talking about?"

"Zoe naked," Rose said cheerfully.

The Doctor's ears turned red.

He cleared his throat. "I'm sure there's a reason – one that I don't particularly want to know. You three bugger off for thirty minutes. I need to check her over."

Jack gave her a wink before slinging his arm around Mickey whilst Rose clambered over her, making Zoe pull away with a laugh when her tongue came out in a threat to lick her cheek. The three of them left her bedroom, and she looked up at the Doctor as a yawn cracked through her. His eyes crinkled with fondness, shutting the door behind Rose and blocking their voices out. The room filled with silence, and she found that her drowsiness became more noticeable without the good-humour of her friends.

She rubbed at her face. "Where's Mum?"

"She's making you a cake," the Doctor said, taking Jack's place on the edge of her bed. "I said you needed more calories so I think she's making the unhealthiest cake she can. She's even using that double fudge chocolate from Osran."

Zoe's eyebrows rose high on her forehead. "She's willingly using alien ingredients?"

"Yep," he nodded. "I think she's growing as a person."

Suspicion dropped over her. "Does she know it's alien?"

"I made sure she knew," he assured her. "She made me eat a bit first to make sure it wasn't poison." Zoe opened her mouth. "I honestly couldn't be bothered explaining about the biological differences between our two species. You and I both know the chocolate's fine, now she knows it as well."

"Look at you, almost getting on with my mother," she teased him, yawning again. "The end of days truly is upon us."

"It's nice to know your wit hasn't been dulled by your experiences," the Doctor rolled his eyes. She grinned. He reached out and took hold of her hand so that he could slide his fingers down to her wrist, checking her pulse. "How do you feel?"

"Good," she said. "Achy though; tired still. I'm also not really hungry."

"You will be," he said. "I want a few more pounds on you before you get out of bed and start moving around. You're going to snap like a twig if you try it before then."

"There's an image."

"Have the headaches improved?"

"They only appear when I start getting tired," she told him as though he didn't ask the same questions of her twice a day. "And they're gone when I wake up."

"Good. Nightmares?"

"Just the usual," she said. "Tolandra, Cybermen, Reinette."

"Lean forward," he requested, and she grasped hold of his hand to pull herself forward. He replaced the analgesic patch beneath her ear, and she hummed happily as a fresh wave of relief washed through her. "Feeling up to a memory test?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really," he smiled, reaching into his pocket and handing her some small cards, the size of a pack of normal playing cards. "Read them and then give them back to me."

Zoe looked down at the cards. For the first few days after re-joining the land of the conscious, she hadn't been able to read. The spike of fear that rolled through her when she realised that was overwhelming. The words had made no sense on the page and she couldn't figure out what language they were written in: English or French. She exhausted herself in her efforts to try and make sense of the written word until Mickey tugged the book out of her hand just as blood started to slip out of her nostrils. Fortunately, her ability came back abruptly and without warning. It still scared her though as the thought of never being able to read again wasn't something that she ever wanted to contemplate.

She handed the cards back to him. "Done."

"What is the pressure below a depressed nappe?" The Doctor asked, having chosen questions that she would have no prior experience with. Her knowledge didn't matter, he just wanted to test her memory retention.

Her eyes flicked to the left. "Negative."

"What is kinematic viscosity?"

"The ratio of absolute viscosity to the density of the liquid," she said, clearly quoting from memory as her voice took on a bland, rote quality.

"Is our universe real?"

"According to the card you just gave me, _yes_ , but so are all the other universes," Zoe said, mouth pulling up at the corners. "All are equally valid and real."

He couldn't help but look amused. "The square root of 365?"

Her face scrunched up. "19.10 – 497 – er – 31 something. I can't remember the rest, but I'm pretty sure I couldn't before as well."

He smiled and set the cards down. "What did you have for dinner last night?"

"Chips," she said happily. "With curry sauce, and a battered sausage that I know you ate when I fell asleep."

"You weren't eating it," he shrugged, and she laughed. "When did you marry Reinette?"

"January 30th 1763," she said, her smile fading a little as the memories of Reinette were harder to access. "Two years ago."

Her short-term memory was stronger than her long-term. She couldn't remember her childhood yet, though she would get flashes, and she struggled to remember anything beyond a year ago. She knew who they all were but sometimes she struggled to pull names from her memory, and she had no idea how she had met Jack. She knew he was a friend but, when pressed, she couldn't tell them how they became friends. She knew Rose was her sister but there were no tangible memories that she could share. She held emotions and feelings within her but trying to think of the events left her with a fierce headache and a sick feeling in her stomach. It shouldn't have bothered the Doctor that she couldn't remember their first meeting but it did. He had confidence that her memories would return though. She was remembering more and more as each day progressed, and her memories of Reinette were almost entirely complete.

It was just her mind slowly processing her memories whilst also making room for the power of the Untempered Schism.

"When's your birthday?"

It was a long shot as she hadn't been able to remember it a few days ago, but he knew she had celebrated it with Reinette and so he hoped it was there somewhere.

She hesitated. "January 30th?"

"Are you asking me," he raised an eyebrow, "or are you telling me?"

She scowled. "Telling you."

"One more thing," he said, pleased that she remembered even if it was done so uncertainly. "Say something to me in French."

She thought for a moment before she nodded at his jumper. "Je ne suis pas sur que le marron soit ta couleur."

He plucked at it. "Really?"

"You should try blue," she shrugged.

"Good, your language skills are coming back, even if your fashion sense isn't," the Doctor said, pleased. She flashed him an amused smile. "Quicker than I thought, too. You're making progress."

"Am I?" She asked dubiously, rubbing her forehead. "It doesn't feel like it."

"Five days ago, you couldn't remember Rose's name," he reminded her. "And your languages were all over each other. This is good."

"Does it mean I can get out of bed soon?" She asked hopefully. "I want a change in scenery."

"You eat more than a quarter of a bowl of blueberries, and I might just let you," he said, taking some of the fruit and popping it into his mouth. She grimaced but followed suit, chewing with an unhappy expression on her face. He reached out and touched her knee. "You're getting better, Zo. I know it doesn't feel like it but from where you've been to where you are now? It's nothing short of a miracle. Be patient."

"You're telling me to be patient?" She asked, amused. "You?"

"I can be patient!" He protested, but she just laughed; a laugh that was cut off when a yawn cracked through her.

She dropped her head back with a groan. "When am I going to stop sleeping?"

"When you're better."

"When's that?"

"Has anyone told you that you're a very annoying patient?" He asked her, but she just smiled up at him and was instantly forgiven. "Sleep's good for tiny human brains. You need it."

"Is my brain even human any more?" She asked, tugging her blankets around her; he knew he was going to lose her soon enough. "Or is alien?"

"It's still human," the Doctor said, shifting so that she could tug the blanket out from under him. He moved her bowl of blueberries to her bedside table. "But maybe with a little bit extra juice."

She pulled a face. "Brain juice."

He bopped her on the nose lightly with his forefinger. "Go to sleep. Let your brain rest."

She blinked heavily at him, and a muzzy expression swept across her as she fought the sleep that was claiming her. "Don't do anything fun without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he promised, and she fell asleep between one blink and the next. He stood up and tucked her in properly, lingering by her side before deciding to lean over her and kiss her forehead. "Sweet dreams."

He straightened and left her room, turning the light off as he did so.

* * *

Jackie sat on the low stone bench against the wall, a book open against her thigh, but her attention thoroughly distracted by the foursome in the pool. Zoe had been granted freedom from her bedroom prison that morning and she was making the most of it. She could barely walk without having to take a rest, her muscles wasted away from her coma where her metabolism had run rampant, eating up her muscle and fat to keep her body going, but she was happy floating in the water. She had water wings around her thin arms; although, she protested loudly that she wasn't a child only for the Doctor to fix her with a stern glare that she ignored but conceded to nonetheless. Not that he should have been worried as someone had hold of her at all times, passing her between them easily, and Zoe laughed as the water lapped around her.

Mickey currently had hold of her, keeping her afloat as they all repositioned themselves. Rose sat on the edge of the pool, her legs swaying in the gentle waves, and Jack was standing only two body lengths away.

"You can do this, Zo!" Rose cheered from the side, ever the supportive sister. She sipped at her chilled Mojito, relaxed and happy. "It's only a few feet."

"Feels like miles," Zoe called back, happy but flushed with exertion.

"We won't let you drown," Jack promised her, his finely muscled chest and torso glistened with droplets of water. "Just do the best you can."

On the count of three, Mickey gently let her go, and the noise level rose exponentially as they cheered her along. Jackie watched her thin arms move through the water. She had the skill, but the energy and power was no longer there. She nearly made it to Jack before she slipped under the surface. Jackie's heart jumped to her throat, but he stepped forward and smoothly scooped her back up, smiling as he did so. Zoe sputtered and looked put out, but her natural good humour reasserted itself, and she wrapped her arms around Jack, trying to sink her teeth into him.

"Cannibal!" He yelled. "We've got a cannibal!"

"Well, you do look tasty," Rose grinned lasciviously from the side, earning a wink from Jack.

Mickey shook his head. "Y'all need help."

Jackie smiled softly to herself, pleased to see that they were having fun. They invited her to join them, but she was happy sitting at the side to watch. Now that Zoe was awake, and in no immediate risk of dying, she felt as though she was on the outside looking in once more. Not that it was anyone's fault. Even the Doctor was making an effort with her of late, though she did wonder what it cost him to play nice. It was just that she felt out of place on the TARDIS, even as some of the rooms were becoming familiar to her. She did like the kitchen. It was nice to have space to move about it, and he kept it very well stocked; she didn't have to worry about her daughters starving or only eating alien food as she recognised a lot of the ingredients from supermarkets around London. Her bedroom was also lovely with its glorious mattress, and the ability to sleep through the night without arguments from her neighbours waking her up was a pleasant change from normal.

All in all, the TARDIS was much more pleasant than she'd expected.

It wasn't home though.

"Cup of tea?"

Jackie started out of her thoughts and looked up. The Doctor stood above her, extending a cup of tea towards her. She took it from him with a nod of thanks and shifted to make space on the bench so he could sit down. She hid her amusement behind the mug when his knees pushed up towards his ears. The low bench made no sense given that he was tall but neither did the room filled with bouncy balls and he still had that. The more time she spent with him, the more she realised he was just a ridiculous person with a big brain and too much time on his hands.

"How's she doing?" The Doctor asked, sipping his own tea; the sleeves of his dark blue jumper were pushed up his arms.

"She's gettin' there," Jackie said, although Zoe was currently resting against the wall with her head on Rose's thigh, eyeing the Mojito longingly, but it was just out of her reach. "She's very skinny though."

When Zoe had woken up, she had no muscle to her, no fat, nothing except skin that clung to her skeleton like old rags. It was an unpleasant sight, and two weeks of slowly trying to get her weight up hadn't made a huge difference, but it gave her more energy, and her skin was looking healthier. She needed to follow a strict diet that the Doctor had made up for her in consultation with Jack, and she ate something every two hours and slept with a parenteral drip that ensured she was getting calories and nutrition whilst her body was resting. Some of the harshness had gone from her appearance, but she was nowhere near as healthy as she should be at her age.

"She's putting the weight on," he reassured her. "A pound here and there, but it makes all the difference."

"When can she go home?" She asked, feeling the shift between them at the question. His eyes slid towards her, but she didn't look at him.

When he spoke, he did so quietly. "She is home."

Her stomach fizzed as the air between them shifted and went taut.

"She nearly died," Jackie said just as quietly, neither of them wanting to draw attention to themselves. "Six years trapped in the past an' now this? She needs to come home."

"This is a conversation you need to have with her," he said, looking away, his jaw tightening. "It's her decision to leave. It always has been."

Jackie wanted to press the matter but she knew he was right. As if sensing that they were discussing her, Zoe lifted her head from Rose's leg and looked in their direction. The Doctor gave her a little wave, and Jackie smiled at her. She looked faintly amused that they were sitting side-by-side, but she was soon distracted by Jack gently pulling her back out into the water so that she could try swimming again.

She would speak to her when they were alone. No sense in starting the conversation where everyone would have an opinion. She would speak to her alone and hope that she could get her to see sense.

* * *

Exhausted, Zoe collapsed back on her bed and wheezed with pain. Her bedroom door snapped shut in her mother's wake, and Zoe wanted to close her eyes and go back forty minutes to before the argument. The entire topic had blindsided her. She wished that her older, pre-TARDIS memories were stronger in her mind because she felt that if she had proper access to them then she would have seen her mother coming and been able to brace herself for it. As it was, she was taken unawares.

At least neither of them had cried though. Of late, crying was a sure fire way to knock her out for a good fifteen hours and Zoe was sick of sleeping so it was something she was happy to have avoided.

Still, she wasn't thrilled that they had argued.

She was even less thrilled that Jackie had made an excellent case.

Life on the TARDIS did require a modicum of good health and she was nowhere near what she needed to be. She hadn't been particularly healthy when she first joined the TARDIS either: unused to physical exercise, a penchant for junk food, and next to no physical stamina. Now that she was recovering, it was worse. She got tired simply from walking from her bed to the bathroom; exploring new worlds, meeting new people, and going on adventures were so far beyond her abilities at the moment that she felt she would never get back to normal. She knew that the Doctor wasn't going to kick her out, but the question was whether she wanted to stay on the sidelines as her friends got to enjoy themselves.

She knew that she didn't.

It was fine every now and then when she wanted time to herself, but she didn't want it to happen every time.

The memories that had returned to her reminded her of just how much she enjoyed travelling in the TARDIS. It wasn't just that she was travelling, it was that she had the camaraderie as well. She wouldn't be a part of that if she had to remain behind until she was better, and no one knew how long it would take her to recover. She was gaining weight and energy, but everything exhausted her. It could be months, or even years, before she was back on her feet properly, and she hated that.

She hated her mother for pointing it out as well.

Zoe draped an arm across her eyes and groaned.

"It sounds like you could use a cup of tea," Jack said from the doorway. She peeked out from under her arm at him. He looked warm and approachable in a soft jumper with two cups of tea held before him. "I saw Jackie storm off. Figured you might need a little pick me up."

"Thanks," she smiled weakly at him, struggling to sit up but managing it without any assistance, which she took as a win.

He sat opposite her and folded his legs beneath him. "What's up, sugar puff?"

She rolled her eyes and took the tea from him. The cup was a little heavy, but she could remedy that by drinking it. "Mum wants me to go home to recover."

"And you don't want that?" He asked, head tilting slightly to one side.

One thing she did remember was that Jack was an excellent listener.

"I don't want to be told to do it," she said honestly. "I know I'm not the same any more. I know it's going to take ages to get back to where I was. I just...when I thought about leaving the TARDIS in the past, I was always going towards something."

"There's nothing shameful in taking time to recover," Jack said, voice filled with gentle tenderness. She found that she couldn't look at him. "You've been through hell the last couple of years. If you want to take some time for yourself, take it. No one here's going to judge you for it."

"What if...?" She hesitated. He reached out and poked the sole of her foot. She twitched it away from him. "What if it's not the same?"

"Going back to London?"

"The relationships I have," she said, and it took him a second to understand what she was saying.

"Zoe..." he said softly, hurt.

"I'm not good at having friends," she admitted painfully. "I never have been. All my mates in London are Rose's. I haven't spoken to Louis and Marie since leaving France, and I was really close to them. Rose is always going to be there because she's my sister, but you and the Doctor...how am I supposed to maintain the friendship if I'm not here?"

"Stop that, right now," Jack ordered. "Zoe Tyler, I never thought I'd say this but you are an idiot."

She frowned. "You don't need to be hurtful."

"You are though," he told her. "We're friends, Zo. Nothing's going to change that. You being in London for a few months, or however long, isn't going to change that. You've got a phone, haven't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then when I call you, answer," he shrugged. "Simple as."

"And what about the Doctor?" She asked, looking at the small hole that was in her sock.

Jack snorted. "If you think he's not going to keep in touch, you haven't been paying attention."

"That's not what he does," Zoe said, thinking of Sarah-Jane, Tegan, Jamie, and all the others that he loved but no longer spoke to.

The slow return of her memories was something of a mixed bag as it meant that she had to live through all the emotions again, meaning that she had experienced Reinette's death twice, and the realisation that the Doctor would never be as permanent in her life as she wanted him to be.

"You ever think you might be the exception to that rule?" He asked, deeply amused that she couldn't see how differently the Doctor cared for her. She fixed him with an annoyed expression. "You don't need to worry about the Doctor. I think you'll find it hard to get rid of him, to be honest."

She wanted to believe that but flashes of conversations with him made it clear that he didn't go back. He would visit for as long as Rose travelled with him, and then he would be gone from her life. Although something tugged at the edge of her memory, something that proved her wrong; she saw a man with another face and a bow-tie. She didn't know what it meant but it filled her with warmth and comfort. She took an overly large mouthful of her tea, warming the back of her throat, and she risked looking at Jack.

"Do you think I should go home?"

"I think you should do what feels right for you," he said diplomatically. "Home has different meanings for different people. If you think you'll be more relaxed there, then you should consider it; if you're happier here, then stay here."

She considered what he said.

The thought of being in the flat with just Jackie did fill her with a sense of peace. It wasn't so much that she disliked being fussed over but it was a little exhausting to have someone hovering over her all the time. In particular the Doctor was cloying in his concern for her, and she was biting her tongue a lot to avoid snapping at him. Some time away might do them all good. He had run himself ragged trying to cure her and the others might soon get sick of looking after her. She could take a large box of books from the TARDIS and sequester herself away in the flat whilst she ate and got better.

A stray thought sent excitement spinning through her.

Back when she was coming to terms with being stranded in France, a tutor had been hired for her and the year she spent studying was one of her happiest. She had enjoyed the challenge of the new material in a language that she wasn't fully confident in; perhaps she could do something similar again. She enjoyed languages and had always meant to learn another one so that she was trilingual. Taking some time off from the TARDIS would give her the time to learn another language. Spanish was a possibility as she knew a few phrases, albeit from the 17th century, but she also felt confident in her abilities to try for a more difficult language like Chinese or Russian, maybe both.

Seven years ago she had told the Doctor that she wouldn't travel with him because she didn't want to return in ten years with no qualifications and no experience. Circumstances had been different from what either of them had expected – neither of them could have predicted that she would spend six years in 18th century France, and no one was to blame for what happened on Mondas – but the fact remained that she was seven years old than she had been when she first set out with the Doctor, buzzing with excitement. Time got away from her and, with her most recent illness and the changes done to her, things had changed. She couldn't ignore that no matter how much she wanted to.

"You look like you've made up your mind," Jack said, pulling her back to her bedroom. She blinked at him.

"Oh, no, I was just..." she trailed off. "Maybe a few months back at home wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

He smiled at her. "That's the spirit."

It would be a break, she decided. Nothing permanent. Just a few months off to get her strength back and catch up on her reading. She could play around with another language and spend time with her mother because Zoe had missed her in the years she'd been away. She could just let herself settle and breathe before coming back.

The more she thought about it, the more she came around to the idea.

She just needed to tell the Doctor.


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter Fifty-One**

"Here we go!" The Doctor exclaimed as he flung open the doors of the TARDIS and stepped out onto depressingly familiar grey concrete, his arms spread wide and held aloft. "The Powell Estate, London. Home sweet home, such as it is."

"Oh, thank Christ. _Home,_ " Jackie said upon a sigh. Her sharp elbows knocked into him as she pushed past at speed. He stumbled but caught himself. She stepped out into familiar surroundings and breathed deep, relishing the slightly sweet stench of rotting waste. She pushed her hair from her eyes. Her dark eyes fixed on him. " _When_ are we?"

"Look at you," he said with bright cheerfulness. "You're getting the lingo down. I'll make a time traveller of you yet, Jackie Tyler."

She glared at him, unimpressed. "Doctor."

"Oh, relax." He rolled his eyes. "I checked, double-checked, triple-checked, and even quadruple-checked the time. We have landed exactly one hour –" he held one finger aloft, "– read that – _one hour,_ after we left ten weeks ago. Right now, we're probably having a nice little chat with Margaret in her office."

Jackie looked nonplussed. "That's weird."

"You get used to it."

There was noise from behind them and the Doctor tensed.

Over his shoulder was Zoe's bag – the same one she had brought onboard years ago. It was packed with clothes, books, and various forms of medication that he made sure Jackie knew the purpose of. He had drilled the information into her and told her to call him if she had even a hint of a question about anything. He wasn't happy that Zoe had decided to leave, and Jackie wasn't privy to the conversation between her daughter and the alien, but he had been in a too-bright mood ever since as though trying to compensate for his feelings of misery and hurt. She appreciated his valiant efforts to not make Zoe feel guilty for her decision and she felt a little sorry for him because of it. She was thrilled Zoe would be safe in the flat for the next few months but she was sorry that it made the Doctor hurt. Part of her wanted to reach out and comfort him but that wasn't what the two of them did.

They stood and watched as Zoe flew out of the TARDIS in a wheelchair, head tipped back, laughing uproariously as Jack chased after her.

"That's dangerous, you suicidal fool!"

The Doctor jumped to one side, in danger of being run over, and his hand whipped out. He grabbed of the back of her chair to stop her as she had no way to stop herself as the wheelchair was an old model from the 1960s. He couldn't remember why it was in the TARDIS or if he had ever used it, but there were a great number of things in his ship that he didn't fully comprehend how they had got there. She jerked forward at the sudden stop of momentum, but she was laughing so happily that he couldn't find it in him to chastise her. Jack stopped before her, looking flustered and reluctantly amused.

"Zoe –"

"Thought I was a fool?" She asked innocently. Jack pursed his lips, his hands braced on his hips looking for all the world like a disapproving schoolmarm. "Oh, relax. You'd have done the same."

"That's neither here nor there."

"Cluck-cluck-cluck." She rolled her eyes. "You're turning into a mother hen."

"I told you not to take your eye off her," Mickey said, emerging from the TARDIS with Rose in his new T-shirt. It was offensively vibrant, but Jack had won it for him at a carnival the Doctor had taken them to whilst Zoe got used to being in a wheelchair out in public. "What did I say would happen?"

"Yes, yes, you were right," Jack said, fondly exasperated.

The Doctor didn't understand how Mickey couldn't see that Jack had a crush on him. It was obvious to all those who were around them. Then again, Zoe was as oblivious to his own feelings as Mickey was to Jack's so maybe it was just a 21st century thing.

Rose stretched as she stood on the courtyard before shutting the door behind her. "It feels like it's been ages since we were back."

"Doesn't it?" Jackie agreed. She looked so much comfortable under the dull grey sky than she ever had on the TARDIS. "Hard to believe only an hour's passed for everyone else. Don't know how you lot do this all the time."

"You really do get used to it," Rose said with a smile, linking arms with Mickey and resting her head on his shoulder. Her eyes rested on her sister. "You all right there, Zo?"

"It's a little cold out, isn't it?" She asked for, despite having a blanket over her legs and a nice thick coat around her body, she was beginning to shiver.

The Doctor took up position behind the wheelchair.

"That's our cue," he said. "Let's get you indoors before you catch pneumonia."

"Is that likely?" Mickey worried as the large group of them making their way across the blessedly empty courtyard. It was a Thursday, or possibly Friday, which mean that people were at work or school and so unnecessary questions could be avoided. "Because the heatin' in Jackie's flat is a little shit."

"I fixed it last time I was here," the Doctor said before a generous thought struck him. "I should probably do yours at some point as well."

"I've saved hundreds on heatin' since he fiddled with it," Jackie nodded, pleased. "Puttin' it towards a holiday."

"You know, I can just take you to where you want to go," he told her, steering Zoe around a small dip in the concrete. "I won't even charge you."

"Well, isn't that sweet," she said dryly, and Zoe coughed a laugh. "But Howard an' I have been talkin' 'bout a little weekend trip somewhere, an' he doesn't know about –"

She waved her hand up and down the Doctor's body. He wasn't sure whether or not he should be offended.

Rose hummed her agreement. "You're not the easiest thing to explain to people, to be fair."

"I'm not a thing, Rose Tyler."

"Alien, whatever."

Jack rubbed at his eye, squinting his amusement away from the Doctor.

He pushed Zoe into the entrance of Bucknall House. The temperature immediately dropped, and Zoe huddled closer into her coat, rearranging her blanket across her legs, but she didn't complain. There was no in between with the stairwell – it was either bitterly cold or a sweltering sun trap. Unfortunately, being September, it was rather on the cold side. Also unfortunately, every single one of them had forgotten to take into account one very important and salient detail.

The stairs.

There was rather a lot of them.

Far more than Zoe would be able to handle without needing medical help at various intervals.

Whilst the Doctor or Jack could easily carry her up the stairs, the problem would still exist for the long term. She needed disabled-friendly access to the block of flats otherwise she would be house bound, and no one wanted that, least of all Zoe who prized her independence and hated having to rely on others.

"Right," Jack said, "slight problem."

"Don't suppose you know anythin' 'bout lifts?" Mickey asked hopefully, but Jack shook his head.

"To be honest," he began, "I wouldn't even feel safe riding a working one of these. They look like death traps."

"Fancier in the future then?"

"Much," he agreed, a look of cautious disdain on his face as the Doctor used his screwdriver to open the doors. "We use renewable energy to power our elevators, and there's a far more sophisticated pulley system. I mean, what is that?" He gestured at the thick metal cables that were visible. "That could _snap_!"

"Were you the Health and Safety officer at the Time Agency, by any chance?" Rose asked, and the Doctor chuckled.

Jack turned to her. "Mock me all you want, Rosie, but health and safety is important."

"He does have a point," the Doctor conceded, peering up into the shaft. He could just make out the bottom of the lift. "How come no-one's been out to fix this yet?"

"It's the council, innit?" Mickey shrugged. "The tenant's association keep kickin' up a fuss, but everything takes ages 'round here."

"Well, it's Bucknall House's lucky day," he said, twirling the screwdriver in the palm of his hand. "Just call me the Handyman."

Zoe opened her mouth.

"Actually don't, no, that's an awful name," the Doctor quickly corrected himself. "Don't call me that, none of you."

Zoe's mouth shut, disappointed that she didn't get to land whatever quip was on the tip of her tongue.

It didn't take him long to fix the problem, which resided in the lack of maintenance it had undergone. It didn't surprise him given what he knew about local councils in the early 21st century, which was actually less than one might think. Five minutes later the lift came down from where it had been stuck on the tenth floor. He took a little bow at the small round of applause that greeted its arrival and stepped to one side to let everyone in. Jack wheeled Zoe past him. She didn't yet look like she was about to fall asleep, but she had just woken up so, in theory, she should be fine for the next eight to ten hours.

There was a small crush at the door to Jackie's flat before Rose took charge. She grabbed hold of Zoe's wheelchair and pushed her inside, letting the rest of them follow at their leisure.

"Sweet lord, I'm home!" Jackie exclaimed. She turned on her heels. "Do you hear that?"

The Doctor listened but only the muffled sounds of the neighbours, and the distant sounds of cars driving through Peckham could be heard. "What?"

"London," she said happily. "Your ship's too damned quiet."

"My ship's perfect."

"If the two of you don't stop..." Rose let the threat trail off into nothingness. "I'll put the kettle on, shall I?"

She bustled off to the kitchen and Jack, who hadn't had the opportunity to look around the last time he was there, was poking around the living room with great interest. He reached out to fondle knick-knacks, flick through magazines, peer into mirrors, and generally just explore the environment.

"This is interesting," he said, bent over the TV and looked behind it, fascinated. "I haven't spent time in a 21st century apartment before. Are they all like this?"

"More or less," Mickey said, helping Zoe out of her wheelchair and onto the sofa. She insisted on doing most of it herself though. "Some are bigger, some are smaller."

Jackie sat down in her armchair and breathed a sigh of relief. "Some are nicer."

"Do you live here too?" He asked curiously.

The way he peered up at Mickey made the air thicken with heat. Jackie and the Doctor exchanged an amused glance whilst Zoe, oblivious to what was happening, tried to pull her thick gloves off.

Mickey shook his head. "Nah, mate, I live upstairs."

"Can I see it?"

"I mean, it's kind of like this but dirtier," he said before shrugging. "But sure."

The two of them left the flat. Zoe wrestled her hands free of the gloves before catching sight of the expressions on the Doctor's and Jackie's faces.

"What?" She asked. "What I miss?"

"Nothin', sweetheart," Jackie replied, unable to stop smiling. "Just glad to have you home."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "I'll go get you unpacked."

It didn't take him long as she didn't have a lot of things packed. She was leaving most of her belongings on the TARDIS, which he took as a sign that she would be coming back at some point. It had hurt when she told him her decision, though he knew she had delivered the news as kindly and as quickly as possible. He didn't like how he felt though. He had let himself become wrapped up in the soothing storm that was Zoe Tyler. He'd never fallen so hard and fast for someone before, and he didn't want to be apart from her. He folded her underwear and put it into the drawer before closing it and sighing, looking out of the net curtains that gave the room a modicum of privacy.

They would be okay.

She had too much adventure in her to be content to go back to her life on the estate.

He held onto that hope and stepped out of her bedroom with a smile plastered across his face, accepting his cup of tea from Rose. He had put a good face on everything and then, once gone, he would feel the full force of her departure in private.

* * *

It was the middle of the night, and most people on the estate were sleeping. Zoe was curled up in bed with the curtains left open so that the orange glow of the street lamps could fall over her. Sleeping in the dark was a recipe for disaster of late. She hadn't been afraid of the dark in years but waking up and being unable to take note of her surroundings tended to leave her panicked and sweaty, so she had started slept with some form of light filtering into her room. It was easier on the TARDIS, but she had spent years sleeping in the flat and would soon acclimatise again. She was sleeping now, though it was a restless, fractured sleep that made her twitch. Rose was in the TARDIS, in her bedroom there, so that Zoe could have the whole bed to herself, which meant that she disturbed no one when panic slammed her awake.

A gasp caught in her throat, and her eyes snapped open.

She stared unseeingly out of the orange-hued window as she caught her breath. Her nightmares had taken a strange turn since waking from her coma. The usual fare of her torture at the hands of the Tolandrans and Reinette's death was tinged with terrifying flashes of images that made no sense to her. It was never anything she could remember when she was awake, but she remembered the feeling of terror and hopelessness. It was the after effect of the Untempered Schism, she knew that. She also knew it wasn't possible to remember what was seen. The Doctor said that he didn't remember what he saw when he had looked into it all those years ago but he remembered the way it made him feel: small, frightened, powerless.

Exactly how Zoe felt now.

She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard. Her body ached from the hard mattress, and she felt restless. She pushed the covers from her body and struggled to sit up, pausing on the edge of the bed to come back to herself. She reached for her dressing gown, pulling it around her frail frame before gripping hold of her walking stick – a different one from the one she had used years earlier when she hurt her knee but just as jaunty. She needed to stretch the pain out of her, and a short turn around the flat should do just that without having to disturb her mother.

There was a low glow of light coming from the TV in the living room. She walked forward, limping a little but feeling better with each step she took. The Doctor was sat on the sofa, jacket shrugged off over the armchair, absently watching a film on the screen before him. The volume was so low that Zoe could hear nothing but his hearing was more advanced than hers, which was why she was surprised he hadn't yet noticed her. She tapped her walking stick lightly against the carpeted ground. He looked up and startled.

"Zo," the Doctor said just a little too loud. He winced and lowered his voice. "Are you okay? You need something?"

"Just needed to stretch my legs," Zoe replied, waving him to keep his seat. "What are you watching?"

"Er – Rio Bravo," he said. "John Wayne and –"

"Dean Martin," she finished for him. "I like this film. Has he sung _My Rifle, My Pony, and Me_ yet?"

"You just missed it."

"Damn," she sighed, taking the long route before sitting down next to him. She eased herself down with a soft grunt. He put her walking stick between the sofa and the wall. She rested the back of her head against the cushion, and her eyes slid to him. "Where do you think you're going to go next?"

"I don't know," he said, not having thought that far ahead. "Somewhere quiet, I think. Do a bit of non-perilous exploration."

She hummed. "Sounds nice."

"If you'd let me tinker with your wheelchair, I'm pretty sure I can make it all-terrain," he said, and she had to press her lips together so that she didn't laugh out loud. "I'm serious. I'll also paint a go-faster stripe for you in the colour of your choice if you want."

The skin around her eyes crinkled as her smile spread. She reached out and patted his thigh.

"You're sweet," Zoe told him, fondness stretching through her voice. "But I'm fine with staying here for a little bit."

He shook his head from side to side, not liking it but accepting it. "That's right. You want to study rather than travel with me."

"I did tell you this when we first met," she pointed out. "I recall turning you down that first time."

"An indication of your poor decision-making skills," he said. "I really should have paid closer attention." He fought off her attacking elbow before she squeezed his thigh and he surrendered with a soft laugh. He took her hand in his. "You don't have to stay here. You know you can stay on the TARDIS."

"I know," she said softly. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes. "But this feels right. I was running away from everything after Reinette died. If this hadn't happened, I may have kept running."

"Nothing wrong with that," he told her seriously. "I've been running for centuries."

"Don't you ever get tired?" She asked, tilting her face up and opening her eyes. He was cast in the glare of the TV. It made him appear sickly and haunted. "Don't you just want to stop sometimes?"

"If I stop..." the line of his throat moved as he swallowed and started again. "If I stop, I'll drown beneath the weight of my memories. Best for me to keep moving."

Sadness bloomed over her expression for him.

"If that works for you," Zoe said, shifting so that she could rest her head on his arm. The smell of leather clung to his jumper. "I don't want to run all my life though. I want to sit with everything that's happened to me for a while. Not forever, but for a while."

The Doctor sighed. "You're much braver than I am."

"I'm much younger than you are," she said, drawing a smile from him. "If I were 10,000 years old, maybe I'd do the same."

He made a noise in his throat, offended. "Oi, 1000, thank you."

Her mouth tipped up towards her eyes. "You realise that every time you mention your age it's always different, right?"

"You get to 1500 and you start to forget these things," he joked, making her laugh. He liked making her laugh. "It's more or less around the 900 to 1200 mark though. I'm sure the TARDIS could tell me if I really wanted to know." She smiled against his arm and fell silent. He used the moment to put an offer to her. "You sure you're going to be all right? I could stick around for a bit and help you get settled?"

"I'll be fine, but thank you," she said as expected. She held onto him a little tighter. "It'll be strange saying goodbye to you though."

Panic flared in his chest. "Not forever, I hope?"

She scoffed "Course not."

"You know, I'll probably see you in a couple of days," he said in an effort to appease the twisting storm of emotions locked within his chest. "You know how Rose gets about milk."

"Got to be from a cow," she nodded. She sat up a little straighter, and he immediately missed the warm press of her against his side. She grimaced a little at how her back had become twisted. She pressed a hand to it and looked at him. "Still, it feels like the end of something, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," he sighed, "it does."

His eyes tracked her movements. She shifted and leaned forward to press a hand against the small of her back in order to ease the pressure there. Her hair fell across her face, and the opening of her dressing gown gaped to reveal her dancing penguin pyjama top beneath it: she liked it because they wore top hats, and she thought that it made them classy. He reached over and gently knocked her hand out of the way. He pressed his knuckles into the spot that she was attempting to massage, and she sighed as he worked away at the soreness.

"Thanks," she said, eyes closed. "I'm going to be glad when I stop hurting."

He knuckled at her ache and made a decision.

"There's something that's been on my mind for a while," the Doctor said, looking at the back of her neck. His hearts beat heavily in his chest, and he felt a little light headed. "And I wasn't going to tell you, but you nearly died and I hadn't told you. It didn't feel right not having said it out loud."

She twisted to look at him. His hand fell from her back. "This sounds serious."

"A little, I suppose. It depends on your point of view," he said. His throat tightened as nervousness clawed its way through him. The more he came to love her, the harder it was to tell her. He felt as though there was more to lose now."I just – I want you to know that what I'm about to say...I don't expect you to say anything back. I don't expect anything from you. I just need to tell you because of everything that's happened, and these things should probably be said, especially between us."

She looked confused and uncertain. "Okay?"

"And maybe it's selfish of me," he continued quickly before he lost his courage, "but I think it's important, and I hope - I hope you'll understand and forgive me for it."

Her entire body moved so that she was facing him properly. Her hair was loose and messy around her face; she had dark hollows beneath her eyes and pronounced cheekbones; her dressing gown was billowy but faded, having seen significantly better days; and she just looked ill. He thought that she was never so beautiful as in that moment.

Worry grew like a dark shadow within her. "What is it?"

He met her eyes and marvelled at the stardust within.

"I'm in love with you."

The words left his mouth and entered the space between them, never to be recalled. It was as though a huge weight lifted from him, and he breathed easier. Ever since he had come to the realisation of his feelings for Zoe, he had been tying himself up in knots about it. He went back and forth in his mind over the implications of it, so it was an overwhelming relief to finally speak it out loud to the one person whose opinion actually mattered. He held her eyes and watched as her face softened and opened with disbelief. Her mouth parted, and a soft breath of surprise filtered out.

He imagined he could feel the whisper of it against his skin.

She didn't recoil in disgust and so he continued on, nervous but pleased to have started.

"I've been in love with you for a while," the Doctor admitted. His bright eyes flickered to his hands and then back up again. "I can't tell you since when because it feels like you've always been there and there is no beginning to it."

The unexpectedness of his confession was all the more sharp for her realisation that it wasn't unexpected at all.

She'd been waiting for this.

"Doctor..." her hand stretched out to him.

The air around felt drained of all moisture so that only a dry, parched heat remained. Her skin felt too tight for her body, and she could feel the thrumming beat of her heart behind her eyeballs.

"Please," he interrupted, voice soft and verging on a gentle, desperate plea. "I need to say this."

Her hand stopped short of touching him. She placed it back in her lap.

He wished that she was touching him. Perhaps he might have drawn courage from her touch instead of having to find it within himself.

"I didn't plan on telling you this," he confessed. "But then you nearly went and died, and it really put things into perspective for me. I know that you're still grieving, and I know that you love Reinette, so me telling you this isn't to put you on the spot or anything like that. I just needed to tell you because there was a time there when I thought I was going to be burying you, and I hadn't told you, and that didn't feel right. Particularly since...after the War..."

He passed a hand across his mouth as a shuddering surge of emotion swelled within him.

"I lost myself," he said. "Who I thought I was died a long died ago, and I didn't think I would ever be that man again because how could I be the Doctor when I'd done such horrible things?" Her fingers twitched in her lap. "And I got lost, badly. But me getting lost led me to you and, somehow, finding you has helped me find myself again. Since meeting you, I am the Doctor again and your friendship has helped remind me of the good I can do. You've helped me find my strength and confidence again, and I can never repay that."

Tears fell down her cheeks and she let them fall, eyes riveted on him, unable to breathe properly because _it was happening_.

"And I want you to know that I love you," he continued, "but more than that, I want you to know that I'm grateful that you're in my life. Even if you never feel the same about me as I do about you, I am so grateful that I met you, Zoe Tyler."

She made a small, distressed sound in her throat as her emotions nearly choked her. It was a lot and she wanted to reach for him and touch him but she kept her hands to herself.

The sound made him hurry though, certain he was getting it all wrong, and he tripped over his own thoughts that became muddled in the face of her silent tears. He couldn't remember what else he wanted to say though he knew there were things that he was missing. There was a poem he had composed about her curls just after their picnic on Planet One, but he didn't think she'd appreciate hearing that right now. Not with emotion running high, and she wasn't much of a poetry fan anyway: tedious, he remembered her calling it. Instead of waxing lyrical about all the things he loved about her, or tripping over his words in repetition, he hurried to the end.

"So, to recap, I'm in love with you. I love you. In a romantic way, in case that isn't clear. You know, like –" he lifted his hands and pressed his palms together, making kissing noises that trailed off into an embarrassed silence very quickly. He dropped his hands. "And, yeah, that - that's pretty much it actually."

The Doctor nodded to signal the end of his painful, rambling confession; his ears were red, and he was more embarrassed than he could ever remember being.

 _That_ hadn't gone as smoothly as it had in his head.

But at least he had started well.

Zoe opened her mouth. He braced himself but she shut it without saying a word.

She raised a hand to her mouth, her fingers trembling finely as she rubbed her fingertips over her lips. Her eyes flicked away from him and rested on the TV, though she took nothing in. It was just a source of light, something she was drawn to like a moth to a flame. The Doctor barely resisted the urge to fidget before she dropped her hand and reached for his, finding it without having to look. She turned her eyes onto his hand and dragged her thumb across the back of his skin, disturbing the dark hairs there.

"We were falling in love," Zoe whispered something she'd long suspected but never thought would be confirmed. "Weren't we? After the literary festival in Poland...we were falling in love."

A shudder ran through him at her _we._ He wasn't alone in his feelings. The tip of his tongue wet his dry lips, and his voice was rough when he spoke.

"Yeah," he said. "We were."

"I didn't realise what it was until later," she said on a whisper, shaken by his confession. "And by then I was half in love with Reinette. But I think...I think it's part of why I had such a hard time settling in France. Those feelings kept pulling me towards the stars, to _you,_ and so I pushed them away because it hurt too much."

"Zoe..." he breathed, his hand tightening on hers. "You don't have –"

"Sssh," she hushed him shakily. She looked up and met his eyes, smiling as she did so even though her eyes were wet. "I was falling in love with you too. I had been for a while. It just seemed...brighter, sharper somehow after Poland."

"Yeah," he agreed softly. "It did, didn't it?"

There had been a change between them then. It was a subtle shift where their gazes lingered for a beat longer than normal, and when they touched each other, it felt as though electricity was running through them. The heat that had grown to fill the air around them had been a palpable thing: warm, comforting, and loving. He allowed himself a moment to wonder _what if_ : they had never landed on the SS Madam de Pompadour; or he had gone through the Time Window instead of her; or he had realised there was a Time Lock before he was part of events. He wondered what would have happened to them if they had had time to grow into each other without interruption.

"I didn't know you felt the same though," Zoe said, her knee bumping against his. "I knew we were close, but I never, for a second, imagined that you might...that you'd..."

She couldn't continue, overwhelmed as she was.

"You do yourself a disservice," he told her. "You're more extraordinary than you think."

A wet laugh spilled from her. "Given what you've just told me, I think your opinion is a little bit biased."

He smiled at that. "Maybe, but it's still true."

"I'm glad," she said honestly. "That you've told me. I am." She swallowed and shifted closer still, the warmth of her spilling into him. "And I felt the same once, but –"

"Reinette," the Doctor said, his eyes sliding shut. He let himself feel the sharp, expected disappointment before he opened them again. "I know you love her. I know you're mourning her. I didn't tell you this because I want something from you. I told you because I had to."

"And I'm happy you did," Zoe said sincerely, leaning closer and squeezing his hand. "I am. I just...I just wish I could tell you the same, but I don't know what I feel. Not any more. I was in love with you when I was seventeen years old. And I've loved Reinette since then. I don't know...I don't know if I'm capable of loving someone like that again."

He wanted to disagree, but it was neither the time nor the place to open up a conversation about the infiniteness of love. Instead, he opened her palm with his and lifted it to his mouth. His lips brushed a kiss over the centre of her palm, and a shiver ran through her body. He could feel the rapid beat of her pulse through the veins in her wrist that rested beneath the pad of his thumb. He lifted his eyes to her, and she stretched her fingers out to brush against his face. He loosened his grip. She pressed her palm about his cheek, and he turned into her touch. His stubble scratched against her skin. She flexed her entire hand against him, and a small smile appeared on her lips.

"You need to shave."

He huffed a laugh, rubbing his prickly cheek against her palm. "That's what happens at the end of a long night."

Her thumb pressed against the corner of his mouth. Her eyes were dark and heavy with sadness and regret.

"I'm sorry I can't tell you what you want to hear," she apologised. He was already shaking his head, but she kept talking. "I am. If you'd told me earlier, after Poland or Planet One, or anytime before France, my answer might have been different. But I can't bring myself to regret the fact that you didn't because I never would have fallen for Reinette if I'd known my feelings were reciprocated. And I can't imagine a life where I didn't love her."

Tears slipped from her eyes and made their way down her cheeks.

"Hey, no, don't cry," the Doctor soothed, wiping the tears from her eyes with the pad of his thumb. He tucked her hair behind her ear; the backs of his fingers lingered against her soft cheek. "Don't be sorry. I knew this going in. It doesn't matter if you never return my feelings; it really doesn't. All that matters is that I'm still your friend."

Her body shook at that, whether with laughter or tears he couldn't tell, but she pulled him close and rested her forehead against his. Their breath mingled warmly in the space between them and her hand was warm on the back of his neck.

"Always, you daft fool," she whispered. "Nothing's ever going to change that. You're my best friend."

He pulled her in close, and she wrapped herself around him. He pressed his face into her neck because, despite his far flung hopes and desperate dreams, he had always known it would end like this. Her nails scraped over the back of his neck, and he pressed himself deeper into her arms. He held onto her for as long as he could, uncertain as to what would happen next.

* * *

"Jackie, if I eat any more I might just burst," Jack said the next morning, leaning back in his chair and resting a hand on his flat stomach. He pushed his plate an inch away from him as though it would stop him from consuming more of the breakfast that Jackie had made for them. "But it was delicious, thank you."

"Oh, I'm goin' to miss cookin' for you," Jackie said fondly, cradling her cup of tea. "You're always more appreciative than the girls."

"I'm appreciative," Zoe said, although the words were muffled by the large mouthful of food that she was working on, her appetite screaming through her that morning. Her mother looked disgusted by the on-display masticated contents of her daughter's mouth. She swallowed. "Very appreciative."

"When is she goin' to start eatin' like a human again?" Jackie asked the Doctor, who hid his smile behind his own cup of tea.

"Her random appetite surges will die down in a month or two," he assured her. "Don't forget that she's got those calorie shakes as well."

Zoe groaned miserably. "Do I have to? They're awful. They taste like ass."

"They taste like banana."

"You're not making the argument you think you are," she replied, meeting his eyes and time seemed to freeze and shiver for a moment before it broke over them. "Because bananas are awful."

Rose snorted. "Playin' with fire there, Zo."

"Let's not forget who was crowned the Banana Giver on Bob," the Doctor said. Her eyes rolled before she stole a sausage off Mickey's plate.

"Say what now?" Jack asked, amused. "Banana Giver?"

"Please don't get him started," Zoe pleaded but it was too late.

The Doctor launched into a retelling of their time on Bob, complete with hand gestures and voices that cast him in a much better light that he had actually been. She let him have his moment as she ate all the food within her reach, hungrier than she could ever recall being. She watched him and her heart softened towards him. She had fallen asleep in his arms the night before, woken only when he heard Jackie moving around in her bedroom, giving her enough time to shuffle back to her room so that questions weren't raised. It didn't feel real their conversation but it was. It sat between them like a warm, low-ember fire that was waiting to be stoked when she was ready. Their love was a soft, tangible thing that she could feel in the air around her. It thrilled her as much as it terrified her.

He was detailing their narrow escape from becoming the inhabitants of Bob's next meal when he glanced over to her and found her watching him with soft affection in her eyes. He faltered a little, his ears turning pink, but he picked up the thread easy enough and finished his story. Beneath the table, his foot found hers and they rested against each other.

"Bob sounds like a planet to avoid then," Jack teased. "All those bananas and ego stroking."

The Doctor could only muster up half a scowl.

They all helped with the washing up as Jackie dried her hair. Zoe attempted to help but after breaking two plates and a mug from an onslaught of sudden shaking that came from having the energy from her meal kick in, Mickey sat her in a chair and she supervised instead. Eventually though, it came time for them to leave. She wasn't going down with them due to the effort it would take to get there and back again, so their farewells were said in the flat.

"Don't strain yourself," Jack advised, sweeping her up into a warm, careful hug. She pressed her nose into his shoulder and closed her eyes, trying to memorise him. "And be gentle with yourself, okay?"

"Yes, captain," she said, only very slightly mocking. He kissed her forehead, lingering for a moment, before he released her.

"Seriously, take it easy," Rose said as she stepped into the gap. A lifetime of hugging her sister made them fit together easily even though Zoe was taller than Rose now. "Don't go takin' on any alien invasions by yourself."

"I would not!"

"You would," the Doctor, Rose, and Jack said at once.

She looked only mildly abashed, but she made the promise anyway. "If aliens invade, I'll call."

"Love you," Rose whispered in her ear, and Zoe hugged her just a little tighter.

"Stay safe out there," Zoe murmured back; Rose's cheek moved against hers when she nodded.

They held on for just a little longer before they released each other, throats tight from the unexpected swell of emotion. She cleared her throat and looked to the Doctor. She was overcome with a desire for privacy, and she cast her eyes about her.

"Could you give us a minute, please?" She asked the rest of them. "I'd like to speak to the Doctor privately."

"Sure," Jack said easily, offering his arm to Jackie before she could think to protest. "We'll meet you downstairs, Doc. Zo, answer your phone when I call."

She gave him a little salute that made him smile. Jackie hesitated before she let Jack lead her from the flat, and Zoe and the Doctor were left alone in silence when the door shut behind her. They relaxed into it, and the distance between them lessened.

"Before I forget," he said, reaching into his pocket. "I've got something for you."

He held out a small card to her. She took it and raised her eyebrows. "A debit card?"

"It's my Earth account," he explained. "I had to set it up back when I first arrived because Susan needed paperwork for school and I didn't have the psychic paper yet. When I worked for UNIT, my salary went there."

Her nose wrinkled at the thought.

"Still weird to think of you working a job."

He smiled. "I didn't really _work_ , or at least that's what Alistair says."

She laughed lightly. "And why are you giving me this?"

"Use it to buy things," he shrugged. Even after centuries of coming to Earth, he still wasn't exactly clear why humans needed money so much when other systems of trade would work just as well. "There's enough money on there that even your mother couldn't spend it all in one lifetime. I just...I don't want you to have to worry about money whilst you're here."

"Doctor," she said softly, "I'm not taking your money."

She tried to hand the card back to him, but he stubbornly kept his hands by his side.

"You know my relationship with money is a bit hit and miss," he said. "It doesn't mean the same to me as it does to you. Take it. Use it to pay for whatever you need. Even if you wanted to, it's not as though you can work at the moment, so just take the money and don't worry about it."

"Doctor -"

"Zoe, please, take it," he said softly, voice a gentle plea. She hesitated. It wasn't in her nature to accept such extravagant gifts; Jackie had always been against accepting money, viewing it as a knock on her pride, and that had rubbed off on her daughters, yet it was the Doctor. He wasn't just anyone. She curled her fingers around the card and nodded. Relief slipped through him. "Thank you. The PIN's 1963."

"The year you landed on Earth for the first time." She rolled her eyes, amused. "How sentimental."

"Easy to remember," he shot back.

"Thank you, Doctor," she said sincerely, and he looked down at his feet, a little embarrassed. "I really am going to miss you. Don't be gone for too long."

"I can't," he said, "I still have to take you to your therapy appointments. We'll see each other at least every two weeks."

"That's true," she smiled. She needed to have a conversation with Yatta as so much had happened since they last spoke. Yatta was probably going to return them to weekly meetings when she heard what had gone on. "Just try and keep us linear, please."

He dragged his fingers across his hearts. "Cross my hearts."

She slid the debit card into her back pocket before stepping into his space. He made room for her and held her against him. There was a time when she hugged him that she only came up to his chest but she was now of a perfect height for him to rest his chin atop her head when they embraced. He was warm and solid, and for a long time he had been the only solid thing she could rely on. In the year after Reinette's death, he kept her grounded and safe. She didn't want to lose that daily protection.

"Be safe," he murmured, pulling back a little. He touched her face lightly with the backs of his fingers. "And call me if you need anything. I'll come running."

"I will," she promised. "And keep an eye on Rose and Jack for me."

"Of course."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before he released her. His eyes were soft as he took her in. "I'd best get going, otherwise I'll never leave."

She sank her fingers into the front of his jumper and stopped him stepping back from her. Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but, as she looked up at him, she remembered another time, another face, and another goodbye. Years ago now, but the memory swirled within her and her mouth parted just a little.

He looked quizzical. "Zoe?"

"I think we can do a better goodbye than that."

There was a brief look of confusion on his face before she was reaching up to him and he understood.

He met her halfway.

She remembered the feelings from her first kiss with the Doctor, which was still out there in his future waiting for him, but she didn't remember the specifics. Too much time had passed for her to have such clarity, although maybe it would come back to her once her mind had finished changing. She didn't mind though as, in a way, this was their first kiss.

The warm press of his mouth sent sensation singing through her body and made her acutely conscious of his body and hers. He still hadn't shaved and his skin was rough against hers. It was years since she had kissed a man – the last one being him; and it was much different to kissing a woman for where Reinette was soft where the Doctor was hard. He pulled back so there was a breath of space between them, her name forming on a brush of confusion on his lips. His eyes had turned to liquid, and heat spooled through her at the sight. Sparks of fire burst through her at the realisation of just how much power she had over him sank into her. She smoothed her hands against the front of his chest before finding his mouth with hers again.

The Doctor breathed _out_ in surprise, but he tilted his head to one side and returned her kiss.

His arms moved around her, hands on her back, steady and supporting. He kissed her with great care, as though she was something indescribably precious to him, and her blood raced at being so loved. Her hands slid up his chest and gripped hold of his shoulders, fisting the leather there. He murmured her name, and she pressed her advantage. She slid her tongue into his mouth, and he gave a low, pained groan in his chest that worked its way up and rumbled in his throat. He tugged her closer to him. One hand went to the back of her head and the other to the small of her back as he angled so that he could kiss her deeper and more thoroughly.

Every part of her was on fire. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to be kissed well and by someone who loved her.

"Zoe," the Doctor breathed when he pulled back, his eyes heavy-lidded and gorgeous. His mouth was wet from hers, and she was unable to resist the urge to kiss him again. He swayed and tore his mouth from hers, pressing it against her temple. His breath was warm and sticky against her skin. "Rassilon, Zoe, I –"

"Sorry," she apologised with rough breathlessness. "I didn't mean –"

She didn't know what she meant but she knew didn't regret it.

"Don't you dare apologise," he rumbled at her. She could feel his hearts thundering in his chest as he held her close to him still, his hand splayed across her lower back. "I just wasn't expecting that."

She moved her head and looked up at him. She didn't want to let him go. She wanted to drag him to her bedroom and push him down so that she could kiss him all over. Her fingers itched with the urge to strip his clothes from him and taste the pale skin beneath. It was a temptation that was difficult to fight, yet fight it she did. Her feelings towards him were clouded still, hidden beneath the haze of her grief and her feelings of love, friendship, respect, and gratitude that filled her when she thought on him.

If she ever took him to her bed, it would be because she loved him as he loved her.

He deserved nothing less than that.

"God," she breathed heavily, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his chin. She could feel him swallow the taste of her mouth down. "I don't want you to go."

"Yeah," he agreed, sounding just as wrecked as she felt. Reluctantly, he peeled himself away from her rather than give into the desire to kiss her again. "I - er – I should go though. Damned if I want your mother walking in right now."

It was as effective as a cold splash of water across her heated skin. The very idea of Jackie catching them wrapped around each other filled her with a sick fear. She released him and staggered a little when she stepped back. Her body didn't feel like it was her own.

It took her a moment to find her words, and they came to her naturally though she hadn't spoken them in years. "I'll – er – I'll see you around, Doctor."

His mouth pulled into a small smile, his eyes flickering across her face, memorising how she looked so that he could remember it later when he was alone.

"Until next time."

She held her breath until she heard the front door shut only for it to rush from her in a great explosion. She dropped where she stood, sitting on the floor in a pile of limbs and confusion. She pressed a hand against her chest to try and calm the furious beat of her heart. Her mouth burned from his kiss and her cheeks were scratched from his stubble. Between her legs, arousal pounded desperately within her. She breathed in deeply before she closed her eyes and felt the moment run through her.

She rubbed her fingers across her forehead and exhaled. "All right then."


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter Fifty-Two**

 _Kyoto, Japan, 2020_

The muscles in Rose's thighs burned as she climbed the well-worn path up the side of Mt. Hiei on her way to the temples of Enryaku-ji that the Doctor promised were well worth the effort of the physical strain. It didn't occur to her to ask why they simply didn't take the train or the cable car to the top of the mountain; she was so used to exploring on foot that the thought only struck her belatedly when she saw the wires of the cable car passing high above the tops of the trees. Not that she minded going on foot. All three of them were eager for some strenuous exercise after two months of taking it slow due to Zoe's illness and recovery. She hadn't realised how cooped up she had felt until she looked up at the cobbled path in front of her at the base of the mountain and her heart sang with pleasure – fresh air, exercises, and two of the people she loved most in the entire universe was the perfect way to spend a warm autumn's day.

She paused and tightened the straps on the backpack that kept slipping towards the small of her back, weighted down as it was with water bottles and various bits and bobs that the Doctor and Jack thought might be useful. Her two boys were like Boy Scouts in that they prepared for anything; although, she wasn't entirely sure what use a yo-yo would be on a hike but the Doctor dropped it into the bag anyway. She lifted the heavy fall of her blonde hair off the back of her neck, letting the faint breeze whisper across her sweaty skin as she took in her surroundings.

It was so beautiful.

It was all well and good going to alien planets but there was something special about visiting places on Earth in her time that made her feel very far from the estate.

 _Rose Tyler_ in Japan.

She couldn't help but smile at the thought.

Around her, the mountain chimed with bird song and the quiet sigh of the wind that rustled the leaves of the trees. It smelt fresh and lovely, the pleasantness increasing only as they climbed higher and higher and her lungs filled with the sweet air. It was Jack's idea to visit Japan. He had never been before and wanted to see what it was like, so when the Doctor asked them if there was anywhere they specifically wanted to go, Jack suggested Japan. It was good that one of them had come up with an idea as the Doctor seemed slightly out of sorts when he returned from saying farewell to Zoe. He didn't even flinch when Jackie kissed his cheek goodbye with a warning to bring Rose back for a visit in a week. He simply nodded and promised that he would. He didn't even wipe her lipstick off until Jack pointed out it was still pressed into his skin.

Rose worried about what he and Zoe had said to each other. She knew they were good friends but sometimes they could get into the strangest arguments that made absolutely no sense to anyone who had the misfortune of bearing witness it. She didn't put it past either of them to pick a fight with the other simply to make leaving easier.

She tilted her head back to enjoy the warm sun against her skin. It was a good idea to come, Rose thought to herself as she grabbed hold of the wooden railing to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed. They needed something quiet and easy whilst they got used to the space that Zoe's absence left behind.

She kept wanting to turn to point things out to her sister only to remember at the last second that she wasn't there. She missed her even though it had only been five hours since they had left her behind in the flat. It was going to take all three of them some time to get used to not having her there and to readjust their rhythm. Their conversation wasn't awkward but there were pauses where Zoe would normally chime in with her opinion or a faintly sarcastic remark that would get the Doctor's hackles up and lead to some light bickering that would normally end with soft smiles and nudged hips.

Part of Rose wanted to tell the Doctor that maybe they should just skip ahead to when Zoe was better – like they had done when she was studying for her A-Levels – but she kept her own counsel on that matter.

She understood why her sister had asked to leave. After everything had been through, it made sense for her to take a step back. Zoe was practical like that, and Rose wasn't sure she would have made the same decision in her place. She couldn't ever imagine giving the TARDIS and the Doctor up. She didn't think there was anything in the world that could compel her to do so, but Zoe wasn't her. Even when they were children, Zoe was the more sensible of the two. Rose was more likely to fling herself off a high wall whilst Zoe would look for a safer way down. It was the way it had always been, so she understood her sister's decision even though she didn't like it.

It wasn't fair if they just jumped ahead and missed the difficult, messy parts of Zoe's recovery. Rose also knew that the Doctor would never agree to it. He felt responsible for what had happened to Zoe, and he planned to punish himself by suffering right alongside her. Another part of her, smaller but stronger that the common sense that she repeated to herself, felt guilty for leaving without her. Her little sister – for she was still her little sister no matter how much older than Rose she was – was hurting and in pain and Rose had just left her behind.

Perhaps she should have stayed and helped her through the nightmares and the difficult days to come. She wasn't sure exactly what she could do to help her sister, but she could have tried something more than climbing back into the TARDIS and spinning away towards adventure and excitement. Not that Zoe would ever admit to needing or wanting help. She was as stubborn as a mule and twice as annoying when she wanted to be.

Rose sighed – little sisters were more trouble than people thought.

"Oh, Rosie, look!" Jack exclaimed, jolting her from her thoughts. She turned in the direction he was pointing. He had his raised binoculars to his eyes, a pleased smile spread across his face. "A Northern Hawk-Cuckoo!"

She released a breathless laugh and shook her head. "A bird? _Again._ "

"Mark it in the book," he requested, peering through the binoculars with an enthralled expression on his face.

The Doctor passed a hand across his face, a grin half-hidden by the splay of his fingers, she took Jack's bird watching book out of the backpack. Unbeknownst to either of them, Jack was an amateur ornithologist. Neither of them had any idea why he liked bird watching but he did and, upon discovering that Mt. Hiei was a good place to find slightly rare species of birds, he packed up the bird-watching equipment he had unearthed on the TARDIS and set off with a bounce in his step and two bemused friends trailing him. She flicked through the book, which was far larger than she thought it should be considering it was about _birds_ , but she did as he asked and marked the space next to the Northern Hawk-Cuckoo. There was nothing special about it to her eyes. It just looked like a bird.

"It's not just a bird," Jack said when she told him just that. "It's one of the more elusive woodlands' cuckoo, so it's a treat to actually see one." He offered her the binoculars. "Here. Have a look."

"I'm good, thanks," she said, shaking her head, putting the book back.

The Doctor laughed and walked down the hill towards them. His long legs and distracted state of mind meant that he strode ahead of them, but he closed the distance between them now.

"You are a man of many layers, captain," he said. "Unexpected and somewhat confusing layers."

"I like to keep people on their toes," Jack replied happily. He let the binoculars settle about his neck. "Keeps things interesting."

"It does that," the Doctor agreed whilst Rose took a drink from the water bottle that she passed around.

She half-listened to Jack question the Doctor about the type of birds there were on Gallifrey, something their friend wasn't an expert on. It was entertaining to hear his normal eloquence be devolved into simple adjectives like _big_ , _small,_ and _I don't know, round, I suppose_. He was baffled by Jack's fascination with birds and watched him with a curious, soft expression around his eyes. Rose recognised that expression; she had seen it aimed at her and Zoe often enough when they let slip an interest that he hadn't known about. It always seemed to surprise him that there was more to learn about people. She didn't know why. He spent his life meeting people and befriending them. Then again, maybe he was just confused about the depths humans had.

He was still an alien.

She let her eyes wander over their surroundings, breathing in deep to get her breath back, her muscles twitching in her legs. It really was very beautiful. She wanted to bring Zoe back one day so they could walk the mountain path together. She wondered if she could persuade Jackie to come as well. She had been getting used to travel in the TARDIS over the last few weeks, even if she became sick with nerves every time she stepped out of the door to somewhere that wasn't London – taking her around the amusement park had been an exercise in patience that Rose didn't have enough of. She felt that a trip to Japan would be just enough of a normal trip that Jackie could overlook their means of getting there. The idea unfurled in her mind, and she thought about how she would go about asking the Doctor when something bright flashed and caught her eyes.

"What's that?" She asked, voice cutting across the ornithological conversation. "In the trees: do you see that?"

The Doctor appeared at her shoulder and he stared into the dense mass of trees. Jack lifted his binoculars back to his eyes. She couldn't make out what it was, but it looked out of place. Before meeting the Doctor, she would have ignored it and put it down to a trick of the light, or perhaps a reflection off an abandoned drinks can, but she knew better than to dismiss things that caught her eye. She tried to see it from a different angle but the trees made that difficult.

Jack glanced around them. The path was empty, but it was unlikely to remain so.

"Come on then," he said to them with a gleam of excitement in his eyes. Even if it turned out to be a diet Coke can, it was still a mini-adventure for him.

He easily vaulted the railing only to stumble on the uneven ground. The Doctor snorted, his breath making Rose's stray hairs shift as the skin on the back of her neck reacted to him. She bumped him with her bum, amused at Jack's plight, and he helped her over. Learning from Jack's mistakes, she kept a careful eye on the ground and waited for the Doctor before they made their way through the thick foliage. It wasn't as bad as Mondas where they could barely move without the jungle fighting back, but it was still unpleasant to have to fight their way through. Her hair got caught on a thin, outstretched branch. She hissed in pain when it tugged on her scalp, pulling her up short. The Doctor paused to carefully untangle her from whilst Jack powered on ahead having caught sight of the reflecting light. Once free, they hurried to meet up with him in front of the light source.

Rose stared at it in surprise.

"Well, this is different," the Doctor said, nonplussed.

Before them, embedded in a large rock, was a sword.

"Anyone else gettin' King Arthur vibes from this?" Rose asked, eyes fixated on the sword in the stone. Excitement filled her. "Is this Excalibur? Oh, I'd love for this to be Excalibur!"

"One, we're in Japan," the Doctor said, holding up one finger; a second soon joined it. "Two, this isn't an English sword. This is definitely Japanese."

"A Katana by the look of it," Jack agreed. He reached out and touched the hilt with the tips of his fingers, curious. "Did we miss something in the guidebook? This feels like it should be in the tourist materials."

The Doctor reached into his pocket and removed his screwdriver. He scanned the sword and the stone and checked the readings. "Ah."

"That doesn't sound like a good _ah,_ " Rose noted. "What is it?"

"This isn't Japanese," he told them with a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. "It's Volsci."

He had just wanted a quiet trip so that he could replay over and over in his mind the feel of Zoe's mouth against his and taste the faint hope that maybe, one day, she might return his feelings. He wanted to close his eyes and feel the soft brush of her hair against his skin and hear the creaking of his leather jacket as she gripped it in her fists. Was it too much to ask to let him simply live in the enjoyment that a kiss from the woman he loved gave him? Instead, he got a sword in the stone, which was undeniably exciting and very curious but he wished it hadn't happened straight after leaving Zoe in London.

Jack's eyes went wide with delight at the mention of the Volsci, which wasn't a reaction their name normally got, whilst Rose just looked confused.

"The Volsci?" Jack repeated, excitement filling his tone. "Really?"

Rose looked between them. "Who are the Volsci?"

"They're an all-female warrior race," Jack explained. "They're really famous in my time. When I was a boy, I wanted to join the Volsci. I didn't realise that that they were created by harvesting embryos from a number of different races and always all female. I was so disappointed when I realised I couldn't join them. I cried for a week."

The Doctor's mouth twitched. "How old were you?"

"Seven."

"That's really sweet," Rose said with a smile that softened the corners of her eyes. "So these Volsci are good people then?"

"Oh, no, absolutely not." Jack shook his head, none of his enthusiasm dimming. "They're a warrior race who've been bred for one purpose and one purpose only: to protect the unprotected. Sort of like a galactic bodyguard."

"That sounds like a good thing," Rose said, confused. "Why is that bad?"

"Because they don't know when to stop," the Doctor told her. "Their definition of unprotected has led to some really big problems on planets. On Ocasio Minor, the Volsci intervened to stop the violent oppression of women under the feudal lords system and that was good. The problem came afterwards when those same women passed sweeping laws to punish those that had harmed them."

Rose waited. "Still not followin'."

"One day the unprotected was the women," he explained, "and the next day, the unprotected was the men. The Volsci ostensibly switched sides and 95% of the population was killed in the confusion. They have a very narrow-minded definition of what it means to protect."

"Jesus," Rose looked horrified, "so they're not the good guys?"

"They're not the bad guys either," the Doctor admitted. "They're the confused guys."

"Not a phrase you want on a T-shirt," Jack said. "But I want to know why a Volsci Katana is embedded in a rock in Kyoto. They should be nowhere near Earth, let alone in this century. If I remember correctly, the Volsci have never visited Earth."

"Eh." The Doctor see-sawed his hand. "They've never come to Earth for the usual reasons. I've had a few encounters with them before but nothing I care to repeat. Although you're right, Jack, I want to know why this is here too." He flicked the pommel of the Katana. It didn't move, and he checked the readings from his screwdriver again. "There's a temporal element to these readings. This weapon didn't originate here. It's been pushed through time very recently; within the last few hours, I'd say."

"Ominous," Rose said, eyeing the sword curiously. "When did it come from then?"

"The fourteenth century," he said. "1336, to be exact. The Battle of Minatogawa."

"That means nothin' to me."

"It was a pretty significant battle in fourteenth century Japanese politics," he said with a wave of his hand, indicating that it wasn't important for her to know that. "Took place on the island, actually, so not a coincidence."

He frowned and worked through the possibilities in his mind whilst tapping his screwdriver against his thigh. Jack watched him, knowing where his thoughts would lead him.

"I'm sensing a little trip back in time is needed," Jack said. "Pop back to the Battle of the Minotaur –"

"Minatogawa."

"And have a look around for the Volsci," he finished, blithely ignoring the Doctor's correction. "Because I'm going to go out on a pretty sturdy limb here and say that this sword in the stone is for our benefit, not anyone else's."

The Doctor pocketed the screwdriver and gripped the hilt of the sword. It was warm in his palm and he could feel the thrum of energy within it. It was no ordinary Katana. There was definitely Volsci technology running through it.

"You're right about that," he said and he drew the Katana smoothly from the stone that was, simply, a stone.

Rose looked at him, a smile battling the press of her lips. "You the King of Japan now, or somethin'?"

He snorted, eyes twinkling.

* * *

 _Kyoto, Japan, 1336_

The Doctor landed the TARDIS on the distant outskirts of what would soon be the site of the Battle of Minatogawa. Night was spread across the lush green land of Kyoto in the 14th century, and only flickers of burnt-orange from the fires that the loyalist forces and their rebel enemies had lit wove through the darkness; shadows danced in the light and loomed above them ominously. Cloud cover meant that there was no moonlight by which to see, and Jack reached into his pocket and removed his ever-useful torch. The light from it illuminated the path ahead of them. Grass grew tall around them, reaching the Doctor's chest and nearly swallowing Rose whole. They walked close together so that they didn't lose sight of each other, and they made their way carefully through the dewy fields. They were following the quietly beeping signal that pulsed from the sonic screwdriver: Volsci technology was advanced enough that it could mask the exact location of its ship from the TARDIS sensors but not so advanced that they couldn't get a general location.

The Doctor kept his eyes open and on their surroundings. His previous encounter with the Volsci turned over in his mind. It was centuries ago now, and he and Peri were on Sendos – a supposedly mythical planet. Their presence there was accidental, as most of his visits to such places were; they had meant to go to Space Florida as he had promised Peri a nice, relaxing day to make up for their encounter with the Master and the Rani. Instead, they found themselves caught up in a terrifying hunt for galaxy-destroying super weapons when they had crossed paths with the Volsci.

He remembered the Inquisa pulling Peri away from him, the stretch of her telepathy already working to silence Peri's loud and strident protests. He remembered how suddenly her body had stilled; her face went still, and her eyes rolled back into her head whilst the Inquisa explored her mind without care for human fragility. They had been able to get themselves out of that situation through ingenuity and their usual good fortune, but it wasn't something he cared to repeat. He remembered that Peri had a headache that last for six days, and nothing he did could help with the pain.

The thought of meeting an Inquisa again made his head throb with sympathetic remembrance.

Uncertainty trickled through him at bringing Jack and Rose with their delicate human minds, which were incapable of protecting themselves from a telepathic onslaught from the likes of an Inquisa, into possible contact with the Volsci. His mind ticked over rapidly. A sense of dread filled him. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that sneaking up on the Volsci was a bad idea.

"Wait," the Doctor said, his voice slipping through the blades of grass and making his friends pause in their steps. Jack shone the light back towards him.

"What is it?" He asked, alert.

"I've made a mistake," he confessed. "You two shouldn't be here. The Volsci have officers called the Inquisa. They're dangerous telepaths. Your minds will turn to ash if there's one on the ship."

Rose looked concerned. "What about you?"

"Time Lord," he said as though that explained everything. "Jack, take Rose back to the TARDIS –"

Predictably, they both started protesting. Their voices climbed on top of each other but neither gave way, almost as though they hoped he would grow tired of the confused noise and give in, but that had never happened in the past.

"Keep your voices down," he hissed at them.

Their lowered their voices to whispers but kept talking over each other.

He rolled his eyes and held up a hand. They finally stopped talking. "The last time I met the Volsci, a friend of mine was left with a headache for six days because of what the Inquisa did to her."

"My mind's protected against telepaths," Jack told him, which was new and interesting information. "And you think we're just going to let you walk into this by yourself?"

"I don't need a babysitter," he pointed out, "and no matter what protection you have, the Inquisa will rip through it like tissue."

"You do need a babysitter," Rose said, "and we're still not leavin' you."

He scowled. "Rose –"

"It's not a surprise this might be dangerous, Doctor," she said. "But we're comin' with you anyway."

"You two are incredibly frustrating," he told them, making them both grin. He knew he was fighting a losing battle; the Volsci wouldn't kill them, and if they were willing to risk an extremely nasty headache then that was on them. "I thought I wouldn't have to put up with this now that Zoe's not here."

"That was silly of you," Rose laughed, eyes bright with amusement.

"Yeah," Jack agreed, "it's like you don't even know us."

"If only," he said without any sincerity in his voice before Rose's eyes went wide and she disappeared into the long grass.

He didn't have time to call out to her or reach for Jack.

A spear thrust up under his chin, the point digging into the soft flesh there, and he grunted in surprise and pain. Jack dropped his torch and the light span. Through the flickering beam, he saw Jack take a fist to the jaw before he was incapacitated by the dark figures that emerged out of the grass: a Volsci perimeter guard had them surrounded. Rose was dragged back out of the grass, dishevelled but otherwise unharmed. One of the warriors stepped forward and removed the helm from her head. She was dressed in the dark grey and black body armour that followed the contours of the muscles beneath. The power conduits that veined the suit at the neck and wrists was the only patch of light and colour on the suit. Her skin was so dark that she was almost indistinguishable from the night around them, and only the whites of her eyes were visible.

"Ah –" the Doctor said, his eyes flicking around before settling on the woman once more. He couldn't risk moving for fear of the spear slicing through his jugular. "Hello there."

Her head tipped to one side and her eyes narrowed as she examined him closely. "You are not supposed to be here."

"Japan? I don't see why not," he replied blithely. There was a silence emanating from Rose and Jack that was deeply unnerving. He tried to look at them but they were just out of his eye line. "We're just here on holiday. Little bit of sight seeing, you know?"

Her eyes appeared amused but the look didn't sit well with him. He felt like he was being toyed with. "I was not aware that the Doctor enjoyed _sight seeing_."

His stomach sank. "You've heard of me then?"

"You are a plague to the Volsci," she informed him. "We have not forgotten your interference in our past affairs."

 _Story of my life_ the Doctor thought to himself as he was jerked against the point of the blade that cut into his flesh. He didn't fear his imminent death. He found that most who captured him liked to pontificate when they had him in their grasp. The amount of people who could have avoided their fate simply by killing him straight away instead of yammering on was obscenely large. He stumbled when he was forcibly moved, but the iron grasp of the Volsci warrior kept him upright and his jaw mercifully free of a blade. He moved into the low light that pooled on the ground where the torch fell. He could finally see Rose and Jack. Rose was unharmed whilst Jack was sitting on the ground nursing a bruised jaw. Neither of them made a sound as he was pushed into their view and he soon saw why. Around their necks was a thin silver collar with a pale blue emblem pressed over their voice boxes. It was crude technology to keep prisoners quiet and docile; anger seared its way through him at seeing it attached to his friends.

"Remove those from them," he ordered, a thin trickle of blood making its way down his throat. "They don't need them."

"I will be the judge of what they need, Time Lord," the woman said. "You think we have not been warned of you and your companions? Why should I allow you the opportunity to communicate with them?"

"Forgive me," he said mockingly, "I hadn't realised you were a Centuria."

Her face flickered with displeasure. He grunted when she slapped a collar onto his neck, stealing his voice. She smirked at him, pleased with herself, and he scowled back at her. It wasn't the first time he'd been forced to wear a voice compressor; he knew better than the try and speak as the pressure the vibrations applied to a voice box were extremely unpleasant. Instead, he communicated his annoyance with his eyes. He received a jab in the back for his troubles and was forced forward. Jack was lifted from the ground, his feet scuffing against the grassy knoll, before he stumbled after him. Rose avoided the violence by pre-empting the shove with a little skip out of the way. Her hand reached for his and her fingers caught hold of the sleeve of his jacket, hauling herself closer until they could walk side-by-side, hands clasped together. He glanced at her, pleased to see that she didn't look overly worried. She threw him a small smile of reassurance that helped soothe his own concerns.

The Volsci warriors took them around the edge of the battle preparations; the noise from the two disparate camps drifted along the breeze towards them as they made their way through the darkened valley.

It was a long, hard walk, made more difficult by the pressure around their throats and the inability to speak to one another.

These difficulties gave the Doctor the opportunity to think though. The Volsci must have picked up the arrival of the TARDIS, and the Centuria, for there was a Centuria on every ship, would have sent the warrior caste out to investigate, something he definitely should have thought of in advance. Volsci technology was on the cusp of beginning to match Gallifreyan technology; he knew that, given enough time, the Volsci would be equal with certain aspects of his people's development. It would be less worrying if his people were still around so that they could bear the burden of confronting the Volsci; he thought Romana would be particularly adept at dealing with them.

The memory of his old friend caused an ache to throb within him, and he brushed it away, refusing to allow the echoing chamber of grief to distract him as successfully as his thoughts on Zoe's kiss had. His mind had been so consumed with thoughts of Zoe since he left her in London that he had let his common sense wander far afield. One decent kiss and he felt like a teenager all over again: all those hormones twisting and turning and crashing within him, distracting him from the danger in front of him.

For the first time since they had spoken about her decision to return home, he was grateful Zoe wasn't there. It was clear that he was far too easily distracted by her and perhaps she was right, maybe some time apart would be beneficial for both of them. He clearly needed to learn how to control his thoughts and feelings with regards to her as he had just led his friends into a potentially dangerous situation that could easily have been avoided.

 _Idiot_ he chastised himself furiously.

The ship appeared before them, melting out of the darkness, as they passed under the refractors that allowed it to appear as though it was invisible. It was a huge, hulking box of a ship with sharp edges and an ugly aesthetic – the Volsci weren't known for the beauty of what they made. Jack peered up at it with open curiosity, his childhood fascination with the Volsci undimmed despite their situation, but Rose just pressed herself closer to the Doctor. The ship gave off an ominous, threatening air that frightened her.

A split in the bulkhead lit up with glowing light that formed a frame before a ramp extended outwards, digging into the earth as a door lifted seamlessly into the bulkhead above. Light spilled out from within and they were forced to walk up the ramp in single file. Rose let go of his hand as as was shoved between the shoulder blades to move in front of him. The Doctor's eyes adjusted to the change in light quickly, but Rose blinked as her human eyes took longer to adjust, white spots dancing in front of her vision as everything blurred and blinded. He looked around at the inside the ship, recognising that nothing much had changed since he was last onboard one with Peri; the corridors were dark grey and painfully utilitarian. He felt that splashes of colour would help to brighten the place up quite well and make it less dreary.

The Volsci warriors pushed him forward again. He grew irritated with the manhandling but there was nothing he could say to protest the treatment. Instead, he glared at the nearest warrior, pleased to see her steps hesitate lightly at the sharpness of his eyes.

They were led deeper into the ship and the feeling that had been growing inside of him since he stepped onboard grew stronger and more certain.

There was something wrong with the ship.

Almost every ship ever constructed and then used _hummed_. Sometimes it was loudly, sometimes it was so quiet as to almost be imperceptible to those without the most acute hearing, but ships hummed. Even when on the ground and with the engines off, there was a low, humming vibration from the technology that kept the life support systems running, the computers operational, and the refractors active. The TARDIS hummed, something that Jackie had noticed but put down to simply being alien when, in fact, it was because she was a ship, and ships hummed. There was no such hum aboard the Volsci ship, and no fine tremor beneath the soles of his boots. It was unnerving to feel a ship so still, especially when it was clear that the computer was working as operational panels were lit up on the side.

Jack met his eyes and raised his eyebrows questioningly, noticing the same tell-tale absence.

As they were led through the outer corridors of the ship and deep into the belly of it, the Doctor observed everything they passed. There were a large number of Volsci who were working on open conduits that sparked when interfered with, and more still with their heads bent over something he couldn't see, talking in brisk, worried tones. The deeper they went into the ship, the more serious the damage was. The Doctor stopped walking when he caught sight of the inside of a bulkhead where the wires ran through the inside. It looked as though something had infected the wires with a physical virus. A foul smell spread from the open panels and made Rose's eyes water. Jack pressed his hand across his nose and mouth whilst the Doctor shrugged away from the Volsci and approached the panel.

"Stop," the lead warrior commanded.

He looked over his shoulder at her and arched an eyebrow. He pointed at the panel and waited.

She looked torn before she nodded. "Do not touch anything."

He didn't intend to. Despite what his friends thought, he wasn't the sort to simply plunge is fingers into things that looked so disturbing. He approached the damage systems and leaned in close. The smell was pungent; it smelt like a corpse that had been left out in the sun for days. It coated the back of his throat and made bile rise up within him. He swallowed it back to focus. The wires were decomposing. He reached back for Rose and removed a bobby pin from her hair. He used it to touch the gangrenous wires and the metal passed right through it.

 _Curious._

He looked back to the Volsci and gestured, questioningly at it.

"We do not know," the warrior replied, reluctant to admit their ignorance. He wanted to ask more questions but she wasn't inclined to hear them. "Enough. The Centuria is waiting."

The Doctor held the bobby pin out to Rose whose expression, upon seeing bits of gelatinous wire still attached, was disgusted. He tossed it away from him and wiped his fingers against his jacket.

Inside a gloomy engineering room, a Centuria was bent over a console with stray hairs licking the back of her neck. The Volsci had a very strict caste system, and the Centuria were at the top of it. They were distinguishable from their lesser sisters of the warrior caste by the stripe of yellow that ran up the side of their dull uniform. Whilst he cared little for Centurias, he cared even less for the Inquisas; his eyes cut around the room looking for the dangerous telepaths and was relieved to find that there wasn't one in the room. He suspected that if there was one on board, they'd have been taken to her instead of the Centuria.

The Centurias might be in charge, but the Inquisas inspired fear amongst their sisters.

The Centuria looked up from the console at their approach, and the Doctor was momentarily reminded of Zoe. Their skin was the same warm dusky hue, and there was a guardedness to the woman's eyes that reminded him of Zoe when she was hurting and didn't want people to know. She nodded to the women around them. They filtered away from the centre of the room, melting back into the shadows of a room that was lit only by emergency lamps. It seemed the problem was located deep in the bowels of the ship and was spreading outwards. He suspected that the refractor panels would soon stop working and that was a problem considering that there were two armies of skilled Japanese warriors on their doorstep.

"So you're the Doctor," the Centuria said, her eyes moving over him and finding him wanting. "Not what I expected."

The Doctor pointed at his throat. Her eyes lingered on the vocal compressor before she flicked her fingers, and a woman stepped forward to have it removed. He instantly relaxed once the pressure was lifted. Next to him, Jack and Rose both sagged at being freed, fingers rubbing at their throats to chase away the lingering unpleasantness.

"I wasn't aware I was expected," he said finally, pleased to have his voice back. "Who might you be?"

"I'm the Centuria."

"Yes, I got that." He rolled his eyes. "I meant your name. You have one, don't you?"

"Centuria is all you need to know," she replied simply. "We detected the arrival of your TARDIS."

"Yeah," he said, "how exactly did you do that?"

"You're very loud," she said. Jack pressed his lips together, reluctantly amused; he had often commented on the noise of the TARDIS when landing and had received a short, sharp comment in return. Her eyes moved over his friends. "I see the stories are true: you travel with an entourage."

"Friends," Rose corrected, her words politely helpful but limned with the same fire that Henry Van Statten had drawn from her in Utah. "I'm Rose, by the way, Rose Tyler, and this is Jack."

"Hello," Jack waggled his fingers. "I'm a huge fan of you all." He paused and rethought that statement. "Well, not the murder and the warmongering, but the army of advanced warrior women? Love it. Super fan."

The Centuria's eyes lingered on Jack, quietly assessing him, before dismissing him from her thoughts entirely. She looked back to the Doctor who wondered whether she ever smiled: her face was so smooth and unlined that it was difficult to imagine her making any form of expression ever. The problem with the Centuria caste, along with their propensity for leaving death in their wake, was that it was impossible to determine their thoughts and feelings as they had excellent self-control. The Inquisa were dangerous for the simple fact that their trade was emotion, and it made them unreliable in the long-term. There was a high turnover of Inquisa women where the majority of them rarely left their teenage years alive or intact such was the damage of how they used their telepathy.

"What is your business here?" The Centuria asked him.

"Tourism," he lied easily. "My friends and I want to climb Mt. Hiei."

Her face didn't move, or betray any emotion, but he suspected she was unimpressed with his answer.

"You have time travel technology," she informed him after a long moment of silence that stretched out between them. "Why this time?"

"We don't like tourists," he shrugged. He jerked a thumb at Rose. "She gets very angry when people are in her way."

Rose nodded and picked up the lie without hesitating. "Honestly, can't stand it. People move too slow, y'know? Specially up a mountain."

"Good thing we did come here though," the Doctor said. He broke away from the warriors guarding them and moved to explore the engine room. Weapons lifted to raise at him but the Centuria held up her hand and let him move unmolested. "You seem to be having quite some trouble with your ship. I've never seen anything like it before, and I've seen a lot. It's sick."

"Do you tend to anthropomorphise objects, Doctor?"

"Only when the analogy fits," he said. He reached out and placed his hand against a bulkhead and felt the heat from within. He frowned. "It's like it has a fever. What's wrong with it?"

The Centuria held his gaze for a moment before she answered. "We're not sure."

"When did the problems start?"

Another beat of silence. "As we entered the solar system."

The Doctor smoothed his hand down the length of the bulkhead before he removed his palm from it. His skin tingled with heat and he rubbed his fingers over it.

"I don't suppose you or yours sent something into the future, did you?" He asked curiously, though he doubted it now that he saw the state they were in.

"We do not have time travel technology," she reminded him. "And why would we do that? It would serve no purpose."

"Yeah, no, you're right," he said, tucking away the sword in the stone to deal with late though he was beginning to suspect he had done something stupid and sent it back as a message to himself. It sounded like something he would do. "So, since we're here, you want any help?"

"Help?" She repeated, making the word sound like it was covered in filth and unworthy of passing her lips.

"It looks like you need it," he told her. "And your refractors aren't going to last forever against whatever's poisoning your systems. You have seen the two armies outside, right? The Japanese are skilled warriors, even for the Volsci."

There was a small, unexpected twitch of flesh and nerves on her temple.

"I see," the Doctor said with sudden realisation. "You've already fought the Japanese. How did that go for you?"

She stared at him blankly. "We underestimated their abilities. This planet was not supposed to hold such... _challenging_ lifeforms."

He clicked his tongue against the inside of his cheeks. "That's humans for you. I find they tend to take you by surprise."

"Centuria, your pardon," the warrior woman with the ink-black skin bowed her head. "Allowing the Time Lord to learn the intricacies of our systems is a bad idea. He will use that knowledge against us."

The Centuria's eyes turned so cold so quickly that even the Doctor was taken aback. "You presume to command me, soldier?"

"No – I – forgive me, Centuria," the woman backtracked, not as adept at concealing her emotions as her commander. "I only thought to –"

"Advise?" The word was a silky whisper that promised anger. "You are not fit to advise a Centuria. It would do you well to remember that."

"Yes, Centuria, forgive me," she said again, pushing herself back into the shadows.

The Doctor watched her go before he looked back to the Centuria. "So, I take it this means you're amenable to our help?"

"Staying here is not an option," she admitted. "The natives have breached this ship once due to the element of surprise. I will not allow such a thing to happen again, particularly as our time is limited."

"Got somewhere to be?"

"Yes," she said, elaborating no further.

"Well then," he said and he looked over to Jack and Rose, both of whom had been following the conversation silently. "Let's see the root of the problem then, shall we? I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty good at engineering problems."

He smiled widely at the Centuria who, without a single muscle flickering, gave off the impression that she would rather swallow broken glass than allow him to help. Regardless, she stepped to one side and gestured at the engine room. Jack bounded forward, delighted to get his hands stuck into unfamiliar technology, and the Doctor looked to the Centuria.

"I don't suppose we could have a cup of tea, could we?" He asked. "I'm a bit parched."

* * *

 _The Time Vortex_

"Well, that was just a wonderful idea," Jack said, sarcasm falling from him as sat on the jump seat in the console room to have his singed palm tended to. "Really, _wonderful._ One of our best yet, I think."

Rose sat next to him. She was trying to de-frizz her hair but with little success. The laser fire had caused the air in the ship to burn and suck out all the oxygen, therefore making her hair puff up like a dandelion. At least she wasn't injured like Jack though. His palm ached where the flesh had been burnt away by the unlucky chance of having his gun shot from his hand. The polymer had heated in his palm and, when it was blasted from his grip, tore the flesh from him. He winced as the Doctor sterilised the open wound, his heart rate only just returning to normal from their sprint back to the TARDIS.

"You're the one who was all starry eyed over them," the Doctor replied, his hands, if not his words, gentle as he tended to the wound. It was unpleasant but not untreatable. "If you'd been paying better attention instead of trying to flirt with all and sundry –"

"They're a tribe of warrior women!" He argued, exasperated. "What's not to love about them?"

"The warmongering, the death," the Doctor listed off, "the inability to accept help without then trying to kill said help in a sudden but not so unexpected turn of circumstance?"

Jack opened his mouth to say something sharp when Rose sighed heavily, annoyed with both of them.

"Will the two of you shut the fuck up for five seconds, please?" She demanded, the fingers of one hand stuck around a knot in her hair. "Neither of you were payin' enough attention. I tried to tell you idiots three times that somethin' was wrong an' you _both_ ignored me." They looked away from her, chastised. "Put the two of you in front of an engineerin' problem, and it's like nothin' else exists. Boys with their toys is what the two of you are."

She managed to work her fingers free. She huffed, cheeks pink, and gave them both a stern look.

The Doctor cleared his throat, attention ostensibly on Jack's palm. "Mistakes were made all round."

"You've been distracted all day," Jack told him, gritting his teeth against the pain that washed over his palm as the sterilisation kicked it. It felt like a thousand tiny mouths nibbling at his exposed flesh. He pressed the balls of one foot against the ground, trying to focus himself there instead of on his palm. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" He said defensively. He had hold of Jack's wrist and he could feel the rapid pounding of his pulse as the pain worked through him. "And I haven't been distracted."

"You normally let women hit you over the head with a metal conducting rod, do you?"

The Doctor flushed.

"Sometimes," he said mulishly.

"He's missin' Zoe," Rose said. She had found a comb in one of Jack's pockets and was working it through the ends of her hair with her face scrunched up. "Though I don't think she'd have paid any more attention than you two plums." She fixed the Doctor with a sharp stare. "Don't think I haven't noticed she likes to tinker with things now."

"Nothing wrong with tinkering," the Doctor replied, not looking at her. "You could do with a good tinker."

"That sounds dirty," Jack said and the Doctor's colour deepened.

"Must everything be sexual with you?"

"No," he said, "but it makes it more fun."

The Doctor let a frustrated noise slip out, and Jack grinned at him.

He knew that his friend was frustrated because of how badly everything had gone on the Volsci ship, but he wished he would turn his frustration towards something useful instead of needling him. He hadn't expected the Volsci to turn on them so quickly, though he had expected the betrayal; the Volsci weren't as ruthless as the Daleks, but they didn't enjoy communing with outsiders just the same. Clearly though, wherever they were en-route to before their systems took a hit was important. The moment that everything came back online after he, Jack, and the Volsci worked together on replacing the wires and cleaning out the insides of the conduits, the Centuria had ordered them executed. The Doctor barely had enough time to twist and kick Jack away from him with enough force that his body crashed into Rose, forcing them both out of the way of the deluge of laser fire that swarmed towards them.

It was a shame they attacked before the Doctor was able to get a sample of the diseased system for his own research purposes. What had happened was the result of a unique reaction under deceptively normal circumstances that he wanted to see if it could be replicated simply for his own curiosity.

They discovered that, when the Volsci ship had passed into the solar system, there were fragments of what he believed was dust from an asteroid that had passed through the system not so long ago coating on the inside of the ship. It had swept across the hull and reacted violently with the material used in construction, seeping into the bodywork as though it were porous before connecting with the delicate internal systems. The charge of energy that ran through the systems created yet another unexpected reaction, which had led to the ship rotting from the inside. The Volsci were unprepared for the pathogens that came with detritus in Earth's solar system, as anyone would have been given its strange nature, and they were not able to defend against it. It forced an emergency landing on what they thought was a primitive planet that lacked intelligent life; the Japanese warriors proved them wrong on that point.

"I still don't understand the sword in the stone," Rose admitted. She was making headway into de-tangling her hair, but her efforts were just making it worse. "Why would we send ourselves a message like that?"

"Because we'd already done it," the Doctor answered. "You remember when we met future Zoe in London the night we met Jack?"

"Hard to forget," she said dryly. "On both counts."

Jack winked at her.

"She said that she needed to close the circle," he explained. "She knew she had to be there in that moment because of meeting herself when she was younger. Because it had already happened for her, she had to make sure it happened when the time was right in create the sequence of events that led to her remembering meeting her future self, i.e., avoiding a paradox."

Her face twisted into a pained scowl. "I hate paradoxes."

"So we shoved a sword in a stone to lead ourselves here?" Jack clarified. "Why a sword in a stone though? That's just unhelpfully vague."

"Because we'd already done it," he shrugged. "Although, I do wish we'd chosen an easier way to send a message. It's not as easy as people think to put a sword into a stone."

"Do people normally think about that?" Rose asked.

"Not as often as they should," the Doctor told her, reaching out to tweak her nose.

She pulled away with a laugh. She looked to Jack who was flexing his hand, wincing slightly as his freshly healed skin was bright pink and shiny. "Sorry about your sonic blaster. I know you liked it."

"I did," he agreed. "It's the only weapon the Doctor let me carry."

"Only because it doesn't kill people," the Doctor rolled his eyes. " _And_ I only let you keep it because Zoe said it might be useful to have more than one sonic device available at any given time, and also because I forgot you had it. Anyway, what did you actually need it for? You've never used it before today."

"You have seen the types of situations we get ourselves into, right?" Jack asked pointedly. "Don't suppose we could stop at Villengard so I could get another one, could we?"

"I thought Villengard was a banana grove now," Rose said, confused.

"Time travel," the Doctor and Jack said in unison.

"And no, we're not stopping at Villengard," the Doctor told him, finally releasing his wrist. "I've had enough of weapons to last me a lifetime. You don't need one, so you don't get one."

"A sonic blaster doesn't harm anyone," Jack argued. "And it proved pretty useful today."

"We would have found another way out," he replied. He straightened up. "You know I don't like guns."

Rose looked between them, nervousness started to coil in her guts as she wondered if they were about to argue. Jack held his gaze for a moment before he leaned back, casual and at ease.

"It's your ship," he shrugged. "Besides, I have a complex laser deluxe around here some place."

The Doctor paused. "Where?"

"You don't want to know," Jack said, considering it a victory when the Doctor's mouth twitched and his eyes flashed with amusement. His eyes snagged on Rose and bemusement spread across his face. "What are you doing?"

Rose looked up from sniffing her bright pink top. "I stink."

Jack leaned in close and sniffed her. "You smell normal."

"If this is normal, then I need to shower more," she scowled. "I can smell the ship juice on me."

"It's stuck in your nasal cavities," the Doctor said with the air of someone who has long-suffered foolish friends. He tossed her a fresh orange from his pocket. "Here, have a sniff at that."

She caught it and looked confused. "Why d'you have an orange? A banana, I get, but an orange?"

"Good source of vitamin C," he said.

She started to laugh, though he didn't know why what he said was funny, but, as always with Rose, her laughter soon infected both him and Jack. The warm wash of laughter curled around them and released the tension from their escape from the Volsci and the near-argument between him and Jack. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the console, enjoying the moment with his two dearest friends, when Jack's eyes fixed on a point over his shoulder, happiness trailing from his face.

"What in the hell –?" Jack began and the Doctor turned, surprise whipping through him at the bright white light that began to fill the TARDIS.

"What is that?" Rose asked, standing, one hand on each of them.

"I have no idea," the Doctor said, wrong-footed.

There was a brief a moment of panic and confusion before unconsciousness swept over him, and he was stolen from his own ship.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter Fifty-Three**

Upon hearing of her return from the network of gossips that worked the estate, Rose's best friend Shareen popped around the flat to drag her down to the local pub with Keisha and Little Dave. No one had told her of Zoe's illness for the simple reason that no one knew about it. Never social at the best of times, since her return three days before she had yet to leave the flat. So when Shareen burst into the flat with a clatter of her heels against the ground and ringing of her bangles that were piled on her wrist and talking a mile a minute to Jackie about the new bloke that she was seeing – an accountant from Essex – whilst her perfume filled the air, she was wholly unprepared for the sight that awaited her. She entered the living room and stopped short when her eyes clapped hold of Zoe. Her painted red mouth froze around her words, and her heavy eyes widened as she took in how sick and frail Zoe looked.

"Jesus Christ, Zo," she said forcefully when she found her words again. "What the fuck happened to you?"

Zoe gave her a wry smile and began to tell her the agreed upon lie.

After some deliberation that Zoe wasn't a part of, having spent most of her convalescence aboard the TARDIS sleeping, it was decided that they would explain her illness and appearance away as the aftermath of having contracted malaria. Since everyone believed that she and Rose were travelling with an actual physician and not an alien with more curiosity than good sense, the story they planned on telling people was they had been in the Democratic Republic of the Congo working with an aid organisation when Zoe was bitten by a mosquito. She didn't notice anything at first, but then she started feeling dizzy and light-headed and her body temperature rose steadily with a fever. She was eventually diagnosed with malaria and was airlifted out to a hospital in Rwanda before she came home to finish her recuperation whilst Rose stayed behind with the Doctor to complete their much needed aid work.

Jackie wasn't sure the story would hold up despite Jack telling her that if anything was said with enough casual confidence then it would be taken as the truth. He then launched into the story of how he had met Rose, which hadn't been as reassuring as he clearly thought it would be; however, Shareen listened attentively as she chewed her gum. When Zoe finished she released a heavy breath and snapped the gum between her teeth.

"Fuck me, mate, that's awful," she said. Behind her, Jackie rolled her eyes in exasperation, annoyed that it had actually worked. Zoe pressed back on her smile. "No wonder we haven't seen you out an' about. Then again, this is you."

"What does that mean?" Zoe asked, not sure if she should be offended.

"You're not exactly the most social of people, babe," Shareen said, lazily shrugging one bare shoulder: she wore a pretty, strapless dress that was completely unsuitable for the late September chill. "So, reckon this means you don't fancy goon' down the pub for a couple of vinos then?"

"She can't drink," Jackie interrupted. "She's on medication."

"She can have a coke though?" Shareen asked. "Or a lemonade?"

She hesitated. "If she wants."

Zoe rubbed her fingers across her mouth, amused that they were talking about her as though she wasn't there. "I'll come if you don't mind pushing my wheelchair."

She nodded to where her chair was folded up in the corner.

"Course not!" Shareen beamed, surprised but pleased that she had actually managed to persuade Zoe to go down the pub. "C'mon then."

"I need to change first."

"What's wrong with what you're wearin'?"

"These are pyjamas, mate."

Shareen looked closer, and her eyebrows climbed her forehead. "Babe, that looks like real silk."

"My skin itches if there's anything abrasive against it," she protested, cheeks heating when she remembered how out of place silk pyjamas were in her life in London. "And they were a gift."

Shareen snorted. "Fancy gift."

Zoe limped her way into her bedroom to change, leaving Shareen and Jackie to chat in the living room, and she shut the door behind her. She closed her eyes and let the embarrassment roll over her. It was harder than she thought it would be getting back into the swing of things in London. Life was different than she was used to and, whilst Jackie was being good at not pointing out the odd things that she now did that were habit from her life with Reinette, she knew that she was to blame for the strangeness settling around them. Although, her mother had quickly got on board with Le Goûter, which was the French equivalent of afternoon tea where small cakes and tea were had, there were other things that just made it clear that she wasn't the same person she had been when she left, and she knew it made Jackie peer at her with an odd, curious expression on her face.

Muttering to herself in French didn't help matters, nor did her sudden insistence on a napkin across her thighs at dinner either. It made her look as though she was too good for the life Jackie had worked hard to give her when that wasn't the case at all. It was simply habit. However, she was often oblivious to the situation when it happened or simply too tired to find the energy to explain it to Jackie when she thought about it. And it wasn't as though she was ashamed of who she was now but having the differences splayed out before her in stark contrast of who she had been to who she was, was unpleasant.

It made her miss Reinette.

Everything would have been so much easier to deal with if she was there with her.

It took her longer than normal to dress, but by the time she emerged from her room her wheelchair was waiting for her by the front door. Jackie fussed over her, making sure that she was warm enough, before giving Shareen a long list of instructions that was half-forgotten by the time they reached the bottom of the building.

Zoe didn't particularly like the local pub. It had been there for as long as she could remember, sitting on the corner and slowly growing old and grimy; she remembered days of her youth walking past it after school in the summer where groups of gnarled old men and their young, hardened counterparts were clumped around the outside smoking. She never liked the smell of stale alcohol that wafted from it or the type of people that would get drunk there on a Friday and Saturday night, but it was where all the birthday parties, wedding receptions, christenings, and Christmas and New Year parties took place, so she was unhappily familiar with it.

It was a different experience approaching it from the perspective of a wheelchair user though as she and Shareen were presented with a problem at the entrance where there was a small step that the wheelchair couldn't roll across.

She had to lever herself out of her seat and hold tightly onto the door whilst Shareen carried the wheelchair inside before she could sit down in it again. She was feel just the wrong side of weak and possibly shouldn't have agreed to drinks down the pub, but she was missing the Doctor, Rose, and Jack fiercely. She hadn't heard from them beyond a photograph of a bird and a stream of excited emojis from Jack, which made next to no sense but he seemed to be enjoying himself in Japan. She suspected that they were out of sync with her, accidentally of course but displaced nonetheless, and she tried not to be annoyed.

She knew how hectic life could get on the TARDIS, but worries of being forgotten crept into her and she tried to swallow them back.

The biggest disappointment was that the Doctor hadn't called her. Not that she really expected him too as he was never much of one for the phone, and whilst he could text he insisted on using proper grammar and punctuation and would grow exasperated with her text speak. She missed his voice though. She missed his face, and the warm comfort that his presence brought her. It wasn't as bad as the first time they were separated as she had plenty of ways to contact him, but she did feel as though they'd left things unsaid between them after their kiss.

She hadn't meant to kiss him.

It was just that she hadn't bothered to fight the temptation to do so.

"Look who I've dragged out!" Shareen crowed proudly, jerking Zoe out of her thoughts as she was wheeled across the slightly damp carpet towards Keisha and Little Dave, who both did a double take when they saw her, thus necessitating the repetition of the lie.

"Guess travellin's not all it's cracked up to be," Keisha, who had never been out of London and had no desire to do so, said with a teasing smile.

"It's not that bad," Zoe smiled, adjusting her blanket on her lap. "Really, we meet some nice people, and only a few of them want to hurt us."

Little Dave chortled over his pint. "Where's Rose then?"

"She's still in the Congo," she lied easily. "It's all hands on deck, and she's really good at what she does."

"Rose Tyler doctorin' people." Shareen shook her head, deeply amused. "Who'd have thought it? Diet coke, babe?"

Zoe nodded, fingering the edge of the soft blanket with a hint of anxiety at being out in the open and so vulnerable. She distracted herself from that feeling by deflecting the attention away from herself, which would only involve half-truths, and instead focused on them. It wasn't difficult for her to feign interest as the last time she had seen them she was seventeen years old and just back from her weekend trip to Paris with Jackie. For them only three months had passed since that time; for her, a lifetime.

Fortunately, they were eager to talk about anything and everything. There were some bits that were new to her, or had simply been forgotten over time or with the still-shifting landscape of her memory, but she was able to keep up. The conversation soon turned to Mickey and Trisha Delaney. Zoe hadn't seen much of Mickey since they got home, but she simply assumed that was because he was working. The knowledge of him and Trisha had completely slipped her mind with everything that had happened, and so seized the opportunity to hear all of the gossip.

Despite all the changes she had been through, she was still Jackie Tyler's daughter, and she still enjoyed a good piece of gossip.

"It's weird," Little Dave said, one large arm resting around the back of Keisha's chair. About two years ago, he started going to the gym more and more often and knocking back protein shakes. It didn't do much for his height but he had bulked out quite significantly so that his nickname seemed a bit erroneous. "None of us even knew that Mickey liked her."

Shareen snorted, her large hoop earrings shivering when she did so. "Please. Trisha probably dropped her knickers. You know she'll spread her legs for anyone."

"Shareen," Zoe frowned, uncomfortable with the coarse language. "She's not that bad, and if she wants to have sex, let her have sex. Besides, isn't she working at the bookies now? That sounds like she's making a good go of it."

"Only because she gave old man Mahmoud a blowjob," Shareen said, her red lips forming around her straw. "No one else was hirin' her 'cause of what happened at her last job."

Zoe searched through her memories to see if she could remember but nothing relevant came to her. "What happened?"

Keisha laughed into her vodka and coke.

"She got a case of the old sticky fingers," she said, waggling her fingers at Zoe. "The manager caught her with her fingers in the till. Sacked her in front of everyone. She was cryin' an' beggin' for her job, but Julia practically threw her out of the shop. Told her she was lucky she wasn't callin' the police."

"That sounds horrific," Zoe said honestly. Garish displays of power, particularly the abuse of it, never sat well with her. "Was this down at the chippie?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Course, after that, everyone knew what she'd done an' she wasn't gettin' any work, least not round here. Wasn't even bein' called in for interviews." Keisha hesitated, looking a little sorry for Trisha. "Between you an' me, I actually felt a little bad for her. Her dad's still not been able to work after his accident an' they really needed the money. Reckon she was thievin' because of that."

"Don't feel bad for her," Shareen said. "Girls like Trisha always bring it on themselves."

"Shaz, come on," Zoe said with more sharpness than she intended. "No one deserves to be assaulted."

"Shit, Zo, I don't mean _that."_ She waved her hand, her nose wrinkled. "I just meant karma. She's been a bitch her entire life an' now it's just come round to bite her on the ass."

"You still can't be sure she gave Mahmoud a..." she trailed off, not wanting to say the word.

She could feel the blush rise in her cheeks when Shareen laughed at her. It was one thing to talk crudely to Reinette, whose body had responded with ferocity to such words whispered against her skin, but it was another thing to just throw the words out into conversations with people that she wasn't intimate with.

She wondered if the Doctor would enjoy such things.

Heat exploded through her. She shifted uncomfortably, pleased that the colour in her cheeks was taken for embarrassment.

"He's been goin' around tellin' everyone who'll listen," Little Dave said. "Sides, he's got it on camera as well."

The coke lodged in her throat, and she choked. Shareen pounded her gently on the back.

"Oh my god, that's disgusting!" She exclaimed once she could breathe again. "And Trisha's all right with that?"

"Says she doesn't care as long as he pays her every two weeks," he shrugged. "Anyway, we reckon she sees Micks as a meal ticket."

"Really?" She spoke with disbelief in her voice. "I love Mickey, I do, but he's not exactly rolling in extra cash. I know he's got the new promotion and everything, but still."

"Mickey's steady," Shareen reminded her. It almost sounded as though it was an insult the way she said it, but it wasn't: steady and good was about the best anyone on the estate could hope for. "An' he treats his girlfriends right."

"Change of tune for you," she heard herself saying. "I remember you leading the charge when Rose was missing. Something about him killing her and leaving her dead in a ditch somewhere?"

Shareen turned an ugly red colour. Keisha and Little Dave exchanged a look.

"Yeah, well, your mum thought so too," she said, defensiveness cutting brittle edges into her words. "How were we to know she was off with that doctor-bloke?"

Zoe made a noise in her throat before looking to Keisha. The air was uncomfortable around them. It was evident she spent too much time with the Doctor as she had forgotten how to talk politely to people. She changed the topic once more.

"How's your brother, by the way?" She asked. "He out of jail yet?"

"Two more weeks," Keisha replied, seizing on a less awkward topic and running with it. "Although, he's got a bird on the outside. One of them prison bride types. She's been hangin' 'round the flat a lot."

"Little crazy?"

"Mad as a box of frogs," she nodded. "I swear, I'm goin' to wake up an' find that she's wearin' my skin as a suit."

Zoe thought about the Slitheen family and took a large drink of coke to cover her laughter. The atmosphere began to ease and soon they were all chatting happily with each other; Shareen relaxed next to Zoe, who began to feel comfortable despite the low ache in the small of her back. They stayed until closing time, and Little Dave took Zoe home.

"You stayin' home for a while then?" He asked her in the lift, leaning heavily against the wall as he was six pints deep and had never been able to hold his alcohol well.

"Until I get better," she nodded. "So a few months most likely."

"Cool," he said. "Fancy gettin' dinner sometime?"

Zoe opened her mouth to reply when she realised what he meant. Surprise whipped through her and she stared up at him. "You're asking me out on a date? _Me_?"

"Why's that a surprise?"

"Cause I've known you most my life," she replied, "and you've never once shown an interest in me."

"Well, you are eighteen now," he said. _More or less_ she thought. He frowned. "You are eighteen now, right?"

"I'm old enough," she said her half-truth. "Dave, I'm flattered, really."

"But no," he said, and the doors opened on her floor. He pushed her out.

"It's just..." she faltered, uncertain how to explain it to him.

 _I'm widowed._

 _I'm not the person you think I am._

 _I think the Doctor and I are moving towards something._

"I travel so much," SHE finally said, settling on something that was true, pleased that she didn't have to look in his face. "And I'm very sick at the moment, so now's not the best time."

"I get it," he said, rapping his knuckles against the door. "Figured I'd give it a shot though."

"Like I said, I'm flattered," she said honestly, still not accustomed to people finding her attractive despite Reinette and the Doctor. "Really. Thank you for the compliment."

The door opened, and Jackie stood there in her dressing gown and bare face.

"Evenin', Jackie," Little Dave greeted, straightening up. "You look lovely."

"Oh, get on with you." She rolled her eyes. "Thanks for bringin' her back."

"See you around, Zoe."

"See you, Dave."

Jackie watched him leave before looking down at her daughter. "What was that about?"

"I'm not entirely sure," she said, covering her yawn with the back of her hand. "I'm sleepy, and I think I need to pee."

* * *

"You sure you don't want to come?" Howard asked, adjusting his faded suede jacket uncomfortable. "It won't take much to get your wheelchair in the van."

Zoe smiled up at him, trying to put her mother's boyfriend at ease. "Really, I'm fine. You two should go and enjoy yourself. I'll probably just read a book and have a nap."

"If you're sure..." he said, relieved even though he did his best to hide it.

It wasn't that he didn't like Zoe, it was just that she was more than a little intimidating with her silences that stretched for just that bit too long and eyes that had seen more than they should have. He was spared from having to think of something to fill the silence between them when Jackie emerged with freshly applied lipstick and a happy smile on her face.

Howard's face lit up at the sight of her. In the few hours that Zoe had known him, which included a quietly awkward dinner before Shareen arrived and an even more awkward night where she listened to the springs of her mother's bed creak and the laughing shushes that accompanied it, he seemed to have a number of good qualities, which included his easy access to fresh fruit and vegetables. However, his best quality by far was how much he appreciated Jackie Tyler. Zoe had watched him carefully during their time together, painfully aware of the lacklustre luck Jackie had had in the past with men that often ended with dark bruises on her skin, and she was pleased to see that he acted as though he could scarcely believe that Jackie agreed to be seen with him let alone date him. She could therefore overlook his oddities, which included the strange hobby of soap carving. She was now the somewhat bewildered owner of a set of cheap soap carved into approximations of London landmarks.

Still, she appreciated the effort he was expending in getting her to like him, or at the very least tolerate him.

It was more than most of her mother's men had done.

"You look nice, Mum," Zoe said, leaning on her walking stick. It was a good day as she didn't feel as tired as she normally did.

"You do," Howard said sincerely. "I like how you've done your hair."

One thing Zoe noticed about Howard was how he always possessed a new and specific compliment whenever he had something to say. His earnestness was rather adorable if occasionally jarring. She didn't need to be told that she ate very well, for not only was it a weird compliment in itself but it also served to make her feel self-conscious of the fact that Howard _didn't know_ about her unique personal history. Try as she might though, she wasn't able to revert to her old manners – six years in the royal court of France had seared dining etiquette into her, and she wasn't sure it would ever fade. She wasn't quite sure how to take his remarks at first but she soon came to realise that it was just Howard. He was an awkward, slightly bumbling, seemingly harmless, somewhat attractive man with a receding hairline who thought that Jackie carried the sun within her.

"Thanks," Jackie said, patting her carefully styled hair. She looked to her daughter, concern creeping into the lines around her eyes. "Now, will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine," she said, barely managing to not roll her eyes. "If anythin' happens, I'll call Mickey. If anythin' bad happens, I'll call the Doctor."

"It's really nice that you have a doctor on call like that," Howard said, hanging back so that he didn't crowd them: at five-foot-five, it would be a difficult task. "It must be very helpful."

"Would be if he wasn't such a pain in the –"

"Mum," Zoe cut her off with a laugh. "Sorry, Howard. Mum and the Doctor don't really get on."

"We get on well enough," she replied on a grumble. She leaned in and kissed Zoe's cheek, leaving a smudge of lipstick behind. She wiped it away with her thumb. "I'll be back late. Don't wait up."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Zoe said, earning a soft snort of derision from her mother. "And have a nice time."

"I'll bring her back in one piece," Howard promised, hand on the small of Jackie's back.

Zoe shut the door behind them and rested her shoulder against it. She didn't begrudge her mother her happiness, but it did make it more obvious how unhappy she, herself, was: an unhappiness that she was able to avoid on the TARDIS with the Doctor and new things to see to distract her. She felt Reinette's absence from her life painfully. The space she had once occupied was filled with a dark, empty coldness that froze Zoe's skin and made her ache with loneliness and regret. She breathed in deeply and ran a hand over her face, wiping underneath her nose as sadness leaked out. Bracing herself against the emotions that touching the empty space brought, she pushed away from the door and made her way back into her bedroom.

Dark patches of grief crept up on her more and more now that she was away from the TARDIS, who had helped to protect her mind against the worst of her thoughts and feelings, feeding it back to her like milk dripped into a baby's mouth. With her memories coming back and solidifying in greater colour and strength than before, all those feelings of love, loss, happiness, and heartbreak slammed into her with the force of a thousand burning suns. It crippled her and left her awake at night, going over and over in her mind the days she'd spent with the woman who became her wife. She replayed old arguments that left her feeling sore and bruised, unable to apologise again and again, unable to seek Reinette's benediction for sins long forgotten and even longer forgiven.

It was what she had wanted though when she made her decision to leave the TARDIS. She needed to recover physically, but mentally she needed the time as well. She simply hadn't expected that the worst was yet to come. Perhaps not the worst; she still couldn't remember those early days after Reinette's passing: three days when she was prone in Louis's bed and darkness swallowed her whole. Even now with her new and improved memory, those days were lost to her. It was over a year since Reinette had passed from her life, sliding into death in the hope of reuniting with her beloved children but the pain remained the same. It remained strong, surging on waves that dragged her under and left her gasping. She thought it was behind her, but without the Doctor's calm, soothing presence and eyes filled with kindness and understanding, she realised she hadn't left anything behind. She just brought it with her.

She just missed him.

She missed the TARDIS.

Most of all, she missed Reinette.

Entering her bedroom, she rested her walking stick against the wall and carefully lowered herself to her skinny knees that protested at the action. She was putting weight on, slowly but surely accumulating pounds of fat that would soon spread out through her and add to her skeletal frame, but her body still ached when she pushed it too far. Ignoring the pain, she reached into the lower drawer of her dresser and pushed aside old clothes she hadn't worn since she was a teenager. She pushed aside her clothes that were mixed in with Rose's like they had always been in their childhood, and she reached for a small wooden box.

Hesitation crowded her and her fingers paused over the latch. Yatta's voice, familiar from hours and hours spent in her company, filled her mind, reminding her of one of their many conversations about grief. Zoe once stated that she wanted just to break through to the other side of grief so that it no longer consumed her and gnawed at her energy and happiness; she wanted to step out of it and feel happy again. Yatta simply looked at her with kindness and a thorough lack of judgement before telling her:

"There is no pushing through. There is no other side. There is just absorption, acceptance, and adjustment. Grief isn't something to be triumphed over, but rather it's something to be endured from now until always."

At the time, she hadn't enjoyed hearing that but now, months later, it made sense. Her grief was something that she was always going to have to live with, just as the Doctor lived with his own grief over his family and his planet, and Jackie lived with the grief of Pete Tyler's death. The three of them were bound to their grief as surely as they were bound to the air they breathed in order to survive. She wished that it wasn't the case. She wished that the pain within her would become dull and disappear, but she now understood that grief was the price people paid for love.

"You're worth it," Zoe whispered to the box. She eased herself back up onto her bed, knees cracking, and she rested the box in her lap. "You will always be worth it."

The knowledge that she would give anything for one more minute with Reinette shivered through her and made her shoulders curl forwards, hunching in on herself. To hear her voice and touch her skin and to breathe in the soft, warm smell of her would be a joy beyond all measure, and Zoe wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.

She opened the box and was forced to make do with the paltry objects inside, not one of them holding a candle to the force of beautiful nature that Reinette was when she lived.

Very carefully, she removed the lock of Reinette's hair that she had cut away from her corpse on that awful day she died. She rubbed it between her thumb and forefinger. It was so soft; softer than it should have been given how frail Reinette was towards the end, but she was a vain woman and had insisted on taking care of herself until the very end. Zoe closed her eyes in memory of feeling it against her skin and the way it shone in the sunlight. If she focused, she could feel the warmth of the French sun and the singing of the birds in the gardens as Reinette leaned into her with a laugh, her hair spilling over them, lips bruised with kisses. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled, but the scent of the wood had seeped into it; she could smell nothing but that.

She gently placed it back before removing the sketch of Reinette. Done by her own hand, she compared it unfavourably with sketches she had seen Rose do countless times over the years. She was nowhere near as skilled as her sister, and she wished Rose had been there to draw Reinette for her as her hand would have better captured the brightness of her eyes, the warmth of her smile, and the curve of her nose. Her changed mind helped her to have sharper, clearer memories of her wife, and she saw that the sketch was a pale imitation – a ghost of a woman dead and decaying.

Her departure from France had been abrupt and emotional, standing in the rain as she raged against the Doctor for his tardiness, so she hadn't properly packed, nor did had she intended to return to the palace where every inch of the building was swarmed with memories of Reinette Poisson. Therefore, she left France with barely anything of her own, and even less of Reinette's. She had long since suspected that the Doctor returned to France when she was unaware in order to collect some of her personal belongings and a few keepsakes to better remember Reinette by.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the porcelain flower.

Reinette adored flowers but she hated cutting them down and ripping them from their earthy home. She liked having flowers in the apartments though and so she had porcelain flowers made and dipped in scented oil. Zoe remembered teasing her about how aristocratic that was, but Reinette remained unashamed and simply filled their home with more and more flowers until she cried for mercy on the tidal wave of her laughter. Once, it frustrated Zoe because of the waste of money but now she saw it as a sweet little quirk. She picked up the porcelain flower and rolled it between her thumb and forefinger.

She lifted it to her nose where the faint scent of floral oil clung to it. The scent made her hurtle back through time until she was in the home she'd shared with her wife with the fragrance all around them. She traced her finger around the decorated edge of the petal before smiling and putting it back.

The smile dripped from her face when she saw the final item: Reinette's letter.

For months, she had been ignoring it as easily as one could ignore an elephant in a small room. No matter where she was or what she was doing, the knowledge that there was an unopened letter from her wife waiting for her was there, pulsing and throbbing like a sore tooth.

It was the letter that Reinette wrote to her before her death. Louis had read his instantly, devouring the final words of his best friend with a sharp pain etched across his face, but she'd been putting off reading hers as she'd been unable to face the last words she would ever receive from Reinette. Even now, she toyed with it. She ran it through her fingers and brushed her thumb over the black ink that was her name. She looked at the wax seal and let it bump under her thumb when she pressed against it. There would be no right time to read the letter; there was going to be no time when she was suddenly, miraculously, in the best mental and physical health that would make reading it any less painful than if she'd done so straight away.

She knew that, yet she hesitated still.

The Doctor called her brave, but she wasn't. She was a coward who was afraid to lose the last bit of life that Reinette had for her. If she never opened the letter, then Reinette was never really gone. There was always something more waiting for her; one last conversation they could have.

She brought the letter to her forehead and pressed it there.

She wasn't ready, but she opened it anyway.

The letter was written on heavy, thick parchment that felt soft and familiar in her hand. She unfolded it and looked at Reinette's familiar handwriting. Countless little love notes had passed between the two of them over the years, so she easily recognised her wife's smooth, elegant hand.

 _To my wife,_

 _And so, my darling, our journey is now at an end._

 _How I longed to see the stars you came from, and to step foot on the planets that you spent wondrous hours telling me about. Yet it seems that fate has decreed that such a future will not come to pass. My sadness for that is nothing in comparison to the grief I feel knowing that I will soon be leaving you to live this life alone without me by your side. I hope, and I pray to my Lord, that your Doctor will soon return for you so that you do not have to live in a time that is not your own without someone to hold your hand and to love you as I have loved you. I hope that you will be able to return to your family and tell them of your time here, and tell them that you were loved beyond all measure._

 _I imagine that you're going to be sad for some time when I'm gone. Be sad, my darling, but do not let it consume you. Do not let your grief make you forget how to live. Go and explore the stars once more with your Doctor. Save people from danger, help those who need it, and spread your kindness and your love far and wide so that people are better off for having met you, as I have been better off for it._

 _You have been the great love of my life, Zoe. My darling who walked through my life like a dream before setting out on the slow path with me. I have so enjoyed these last six years with you, and I know I should not demand more than I have received, but I wish that we had more time. I wish that we had a thousand lifetimes to spend together and to love each other, but, alas, it is not to be._

 _Know this though, and carry it with you always: I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you. You are my soulmate, my lover, my dearest friend, and my heart made flesh._

 _Do not be afraid to love again. You are still young and there are, one hopes, many years ahead of you to fill with love and happiness. Love once more, my darling. You have such a capacity for it, and you deserved to be loved and loved well._

 _I know that we will meet again in the Kingdom of my Lord for our love is strong enough to transcend death itself._

 _I love you, for now and always._

 _Your devoted and loving wife,_

 _Reinette_

Zoe lowered the letter to her lap and touched her fingers to her face. Her cheeks were wet with tears and her throat was full of sadness and grief. She pressed her hand over her eyes and shook silently as Reinette's words swirled around her mind, searing themselves into her, never to be forgotten.

Reinette had been dead for just over a year, but for the first time, Zoe accepted it.

* * *

 _Two days later_

"What I don't get," Mickey said around a mouthful of chips, "is why they didn't just peel the bananas in the first place? Why did the Doctor have to show them how?"

Zoe laughed and dipped her battered sausage into a pot of curry sauce; it dripped from the end in globulous rain drops when she answered him.

"If you've never eaten a banana before, would you look at it and think: all right, all I need to do is peel it so it's edible? If you think about it," she was warming to her subject, "who the hell discovered the the inside of a coconut was edible and drinkable? And pineapples – kiwis – potatoes. Because if you really think about it, the process to figure out that a potato could be eaten was probably a long one."

Mickey thought on the matter as she bit into her sausage, the grease leaving a film of tackiness on the inside of her mouth that she enjoyed. It was all well and good eating according to the dietary plan the Doctor had mocked up for her but sometimes all a person needed was a styrofoam tray of the best chips in London. They sat outside on the old, paint-peeled bench, which was sprayed with crude graffiti, on the courtyard of the estate. They faced the small area of greenery that was available to them, patches of dry earth shining through the tattered park, watching the Nichols boys play kick-about; they should really be in school but neither she nor Mickey were going to tell them that. Rumour had it that Owen Nichols had knifed the last person who told him he should be at school, and Zoe was fairly certain a knife to the ribs would do what the Untempered Schism hadn't and kill her.

A sharp, stiff breeze made her tighten the scarf about her neck. It was bitter outside, and she felt the tip of her nose ice over with the cold, but she didn't want to go back inside. The last two days had been spent curled up in her bed, oscillating between crying heavily and simply staring blankly at whichever wall she was facing. In her panic over not being able to decipher what was wrong with her daughter, Jackie announced that she was going to call the Doctor. It was enough of a threat that Zoe was able to piece her words together to explain what the problem was.

The Doctor, for all that she loved him, was the last person she wanted to see when wrapped up in her grief. Her feelings for him were confused and muddled, and she didn't want him near her when she was vulnerable and emotionally weak for fear that she would do something careless with his emotions. Having been through the grieving process herself, Jackie understood and kindly left her alone, only interrupting to bring her cups of tea and bowls of soup until that morning. She had come into Zoe's bedroom, ripped the covers off her, and told her in a tone that left no room for argument to get some fresh air so that she could wash the sheets and air out the room.

Grumbling, she had complied and was now pleased to be outdoors.

It was nice to be sat outside with the wind against her skin, even if the Peckham estate was nowhere near as wondrous and relaxing as the gardens of Versailles. In France, she hadn't been interrupted by car horns blaring and the low rumble of traffic ever present in the background. France also smelt better; she could do without the sharp sting of pollution in her nose, and the acrid taste of burnt rubber in her mouth. She at least had good company though. Mickey had taken his lunch break so that he could keep her company, and she'd bought them both some chips from the local chip shop. He was dressed in his dark blue overalls, and the hat he normally wore was placed atop Zoe's head. She'd forgotten hers and instead of going all the way back upstairs for it, had commandeered his.

"When they come back – " Zoe started, polishing off her sausage. Her hunger was ravenous after two days of soup and cereal, and she eyed Mickey's chips with an air of faint hopefulness. "You should go away with them. Now that I'm not there, there's room for one more. You can even use my bedroom."

Mickey scoffed, shaking his head. "Nah, mate, don't reckon it's for me."

"Bull-shit," she sang. She nudged him with her pointy elbow until he looked at her. "I saw how much you enjoyed it. In between the coma and the painful exhaustion, I saw you liking what was going on. Don't sit there and tell me you didn't."

"It _was_ fun," he agreed with a small, shy grin. "But I don't think I could do it full-time. It's exhausting just being around the Doctor – an' Jack for that matter. I mean, look what happened to you."

She waved a hand dismissively. "One, I'm the exception, not the rule. Two, Jack's really not that exhausting. You thrust a broken piece of tech into his hand and he'll be quiet for a good ten or fifteen minutes, twenty if it's especially complicated. And three, a bit of travel's good for the soul."

"Yeah, to bloody France," he replied, "not the back end of the bleedin' universe."

"Sometimes France felt like the back end of the universe," she said, shaking her memories off to reclaim her enthusiasm. "Think big, Micks! Why settle for France, lovely as it is, when you can have the whole universe to play with? The Doctor might act like a dick and, admittedly, like seventy percent of the time he is, but he's also a really decent bloke and the things he can show you –" she mimed her head exploding. "You won't ever regret it."

"What are you?" He asked with a laugh. "A bloody travel agent for the final frontier?"

"I would be an excellent travel agent, thank you very much," she said. "I'd have posters of all sorts of places and charge a reasonable fee as well."

"You're mad."

"Quite possibly," she agreed, tapping the side of her head. "Who knows what the Untempered Schism did to me. The Doctor did say madness might wake up and shake its stick at me."

He grimaced. "Please don't joke about that."

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm surrounded by people who don't appreciate my gallows humour."

"Only because we don't want you dead."

"Stop being kind," she said with a haughty sniff. He grinned. "Come on, tell me honestly, why aren't you leaping at the chance to travel in the TARDIS? I know you want to but there's something holding you back. What is it?"

He hesitated. "You didn't go with him when he asked the first time."

"No, because I wanted to go to uni," she said easily. "And this is about you, not me. Has he already asked you?"

" _Zo-e,_ " he whined.

" _Mickey,_ " she mimicked. Her attention on him was sharper and more focused that before. "Did the Doctor ask you to travel with him?"

He had never mentioned anything to her, and she wondered when such a conversation between the two had taken place.

"Once, months ago," he shrugged. "After the whole Downin' Street thing. Said I should come along to keep an eye on Rose. I said no."

"Huh," Zoe said, surprised that it happened at the same time as her offer. "Well, that's – why?"

"Despite what your sister sometimes thinks," he began, "I don't actually enjoy bein' the third wheel."

She thought back to her first week of travel. The Doctor took her to Gaju for a festival, and she had felt slightly out of place. Not so much that it was a problem but despite only travelling together for a few days, the Doctor and Rose had had their own rhythm. They were both warm and welcoming to her, and they swallowed her into the mix easily enough, but she imagined that it would have been different for Mickey. He was Rose's sort-of boyfriend and she knew he was jealous of the Doctor. It would have been a wildly different experience for him, and he was smart enough to realise that. Her heart ached for him, but she worked hard to keep the pity off her face.

"You wouldn't be the third wheel," she promised him. "Not even the fourth. Even if the Doctor and Rose are shit about it, Jack's never be known to leave someone out. I think it's the 51st century in him."

"He is very... _friendly._ "

Zoe raised an eyebrow at the odd emphasis. Mickey avoided her eyes, and her curiosity deepened. She was disappointed when he continued their conversation, preventing her from pursuing her line of questioning any further.

"Besides, some of us don't want the universe," he said, and she gave a snort of derision. "Some of us are quite happy with our small little corner of it."

"Problem is," she said, munching thoughtfully on a chip. "I don't think you're one of them at the thought of those people. "There's too much of a curious spirit in you, Mickey Smith, try and hide though you do."

His response was to maturely take a handful of chips and shove them in his mouth.

Allowing him the childish escape from her questions, she tilted her head back to squint suspiciously up at the sky. She suspected it would start raining at some point, but she hoped that it would hold off for just a little longer as she was enjoying being outside despite the chill and the lack of useful loquaciousness from her friend. Within her, there was a lightness and ease that had been missing for a long time: two days of cathartic crying had helped her move deeper into the acceptance stage of her grief.

Reinette was dead.

Nothing she could do was ever going to change that. She now needed to learn how to adjust her future hopes and dreams so that they no longer included her. It wasn't something she was in a hurry to do, aware of the pain that waited for her down that rocky path; she hoped that Yatta would help her with it during their next session. Her day-to-day living had already been adjusted out of necessity, but there were plans and hopes that she had had for their shared future that needed to be dwelt upon, set aside, and grieved for their own sake and for hers.

After months of speaking with her therapist, Zoe knew better than to attempt such an emotional undertaking alone.

"You decided on a language yet?" Mickey asked once his mouth was clear, startling her out of her thoughts.

"I think I'm going to do two," she said, "Arabic and Spanish."

"Two?" His eyebrows lifted. "You sure?"

"I want to test out this new brain of mine," she confessed. "Mum says that I've been reading things quicker, and I'm remembering things much, much more easily than before. The Doctor said I might experience something like this, so I want to see how far it goes."

Normally, her rate of attrition regarding books was one to two a week, depending on the week. However, according to Jackie, she had consumed six books in five days and that was extremely unusual for her, particularly as she had been busy doing other things as well. They weren't small books either but weighty tomes that she had put off reading because she wanted the time to properly sit down and get lost in them – Don Quixote, It, and Moby Dick to name only a few. She could remember the stories vividly; she easily named the characters and their story arcs; and she accurately remembered when and where within the book certain scenes took place.

Whilst these changes frightened her, they also made sense.

The Doctor had said that her brain had to change in order to make room for what she had seen. Her mind, notably her storage capacity, was too small for the strength and infiniteness of the Untempered Schism. Therefore, with the increase of space in her mind, and the strengthening of her boundaries, it was only reasonable that her her memory and processing ability had improved in some manner. It wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to her by far. She was glad that her memories had come back and that madness didn't actually seem likely to happen. So, if it made her better at learning and reading and actually retaining the information in front of her, then she wasn't going to be upset about that.

The number of books that she would be able to read in her lifetime had increased exponentially.

How could she possibly be unhappy about that?

"Most people when they have a card with unlimited money would do somethin' fun," Mickey told her, "but you go back to school."

"School's fun!" She protested. "What's not to like about school? You go there and when you leave at the end of the day you know more than you did when you woke up. How is that not fun?"

He reached out and pulled the hat of her head just so that he could ruffle her hair. "Oh, Zo, you're a right little nerd."

"Geroff." She pulled away from him with a half-laugh.

She jammed the hat back onto her head as the wind picked up around them and the familiar sound of the TARDIS began to fill the air. Both she and Mickey looked around in surprise. Neither of them were expecting the TARDIS for another few days when it was meant to be arriving to take Zoe to Yatta's office on Reylar. Quickly, Mickey gathered their rubbish and tossed it into the nearest bin before helping her the rest of the way into her wheelchair, ignoring her protests that she could do it herself. He pushed her along the courtyard and down onto the path, both of them following the sound of the TARDIS to a street corner just off from the main estate. An unusual place to park for sure, but Zoe wasn't worried until she saw Rose emerge from the inside of the TARDIS, body collapsing in on itself, tears cascading down her pale cheeks.

"Rose?" Zoe called out, concern washing out from her.

Mickey picked up a brisk jog, and they moved faster, closing the distance between them.

Rose looked up. Her mascara ran like black rivers down her her cheeks. "Zoe?"

"Hey." She was jerked to an ungainly stop by Mickey, but she didn't care. Her arms opened wide, and Rose all but climbed into her lap, pressing her face into her neck as she sobbed. No one else left the TARDIS. Familiar fear wrapped around her insides like an icy hand stretching out to close around her heart. "Hey. What's wrong? What's happened?"

"The Doctor..." she sobbed. "He sent me away. There was danger, and Jack left to fight it and then he tricked me. He tricked me, and he sent me away, and now he's dyin' and there's nothin' I can do to help him!"

Her sobs tangled on top of each other.

Zoe held her close as her stomach fell into her feet, worry and fear clawing at her. For the Doctor to send away the TARDIS, his home and the last connection he had to his people, meant that something extremely bad was happening and he didn't think he was going to survive it.

She hugged Rose tight and stared at the TARDIS, her mind already turning over as she considered what to do.


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter Fifty-Four**

Rose sat on the sofa with her head in her hands as she wept. No one was able to get any sense out of her and so Mickey busied himself in the kitchen making four cups of tea whilst she cried her pain and anger out. Jackie sat next to her, an arm wrapped around shaking shoulders, making soft, soothing sounds. Zoe was encompassed by the armchair, the white leather cushions nearly swallowing her frail form whole, as she tapped at her phone, annoyed and worried that the Doctor and Jack weren't answering. The Doctor always answered when she called, even when he was busy. It deeply concerned her that she wasn't able to get through to him. She took her cup of tea from Mickey with a frown pressed onto her forehead. She distractedly sipped it whilst she waited for Rose to calm down, her mind working furiously to create a thousand different scenarios that she was sure weren't as bad as what was really happening.

Eventually, once her tears ran dry, Rose calmed down with the help of a strong cup of tea to rehydrate herself. She looked as though she had been through the ringer: swollen eyes, mascara streaked face, and shoulders that slumped with exhaustion.

"Now," Jackie said once everything quietened down and everything seemed as calm as it could possibly be, "what's all this about then? Where's the Doctor an' Jack?"

Rose's mouth trembled, but she managed not to cry. "They're on the Game Station an' they're trapped."

"What's the Game Station?" Zoe asked, setting her phone to one side and curling her tea closer to her chest.

"It used to be Satellite One," she said, wiping at her face with her sleeve. Her mascara smeared itself across her skin and her sleeve. "You weren't there the last time. It was when Adam was with us."

"Oh, yeah, brain-door guy. Blimey, that was a long time ago now." She had completely forgotten about him. "So they're on the Game Station and they're trapped. Why? What happened?"

Rose's face twisted, and her hands trembled around her tea. "Daleks."

That one word was capable of plunging fear through Zoe like a sword of ice. Cold radiated out from her chest, and her breath froze in her throat. She could hear her heart beat heavily and slowly, the sound filling her ears as it punched at her from the inside. Sharp, bright fear overwhelmed her. It seemed that no matter what the Doctor did, the Daleks never died. They kept coming and coming like cockroaches, surviving everything that was thrown at them as though the attempts to destroy them were worthless. She didn't understand how they kept surviving, but she knew that she hated them for it; memories of Utah, 2012, and London, 1941, swam through her.

"There were so many of them," Rose continued, unaware that her sister was stiff with fear. She felt congested and sick, but the tea in her hands helped warm her through. "Hundreds of thousands of them, an' they're goin' to destroy the Earth. The Doctor's tryin' to stop them, but I dunno if he can do it."

Jackie simply looked confused. "What are Daleks?"

"The most evil creatures in all of creation," Zoe answered, finding her voice. "They know nothing but hate, and they're the Doctor's most dangerous enemies. The War – the one that he fought in – it was against the Daleks. The two mightiest civilisations in the entire universe were pitched against each other across all of time and space. His planet and people are gone because of Dalek ambition. There's nothing left of the Time Lords but the Doctor and the TARDIS, yet the Daleks keep coming back."

Her words hung in the air like a knife over a heart, shivering with danger and despair.

"So...bad then?" Jackie asked uncertainly, and Zoe felt the strange, sudden urge to laugh at the understatement.

"Incredibly bad," she agreed, breathing out. She felt a headache brewing. "All right, Rosie, I need you to start from the beginning. You lot were in Japan when I last heard from Jack. What happened after that?"

Rose wiped at her face again. She moved free of Jackie's arm and pulled her legs up into her chest, clutching her cup of tea to her like a lifeline. She looked lost and impossibly young.

"We were on the TARDIS after Japan," she said hoarsely, "an' we was all laughin' because we'd just got away from the Volsci. We helped fix their ship but then they turned on us because it was, you know, the Doctor." Zoe nodded knowingly. "So we had to run. We were in the console room just laughin' at how ridiculous everythin' was an' then - then I woke up somewhere else. It was this game show, like the Weakest Link, but anyone who didn't go through to the next round - they got vaporised."

Zoe sat in silence and listened as Rose told them about being kidnapped by the Daleks. A tight feeling wound itself around her chest as she listened to how the Doctor and Jack had come to her rescue and then Jack left them both with a kiss. She passed a hand across her face to swipe away the tears that pooled in her eyes. He had gone off to die like the hero he always claimed not to be. _Idiot_. He wasn't dead yet though; neither of them were. Rose wiped at her face again as she stumbled on how the Doctor tricked her into getting into the TARDIS and how he'd sent her away.

Only when she finished the long and ghastly tale did Zoe speak again.

"We'll figure this out," she said with a certainty she didn't feel. "I don't know how yet but we will." She hoped that she would be able to think of something, but her mind was coming up blank. "For now, I think you should go to bed and try and get some sleep. You're exhausted, and you need rest. Maybe a bath as well? Just to relax."

Rose made a small sound of protest; her legs began to unfurl. "But -"

"Rose," she said firmly but kindly, "what's happening to them is happening 200,000 years in the future. We have time to fix this. We could spend thousands of years on finding a way to save them, and it'll be as though just a few minutes have passed since they last saw you." She smiled wanly. "Trust me - I know."

Rose's eyes darted down to her sister's wedding ring and that seemed to help her find balance again. She swallowed and nodded before standing up. Jackie stood with her, hand on her back.

"C'mon, sweetheart," Jackie said, troubled by everything she'd heard. "I'll run you that bath an' we can clean your face up."

They left the room, leaving Zoe and Mickey behind. Mickey had been quiet through Rose's re-telling, and he looked to Zoe. "You got a plan?"

"I don't even have the inklings of one," she admitted without hesitation. "This is bad, Mickey. Really, really bad. The Daleks...they're not something to fuck around with. Someone tried once and it killed hundreds of people, and there was only one Dalek then. There's a reason the Doctor sent the TARDIS away. If the Daleks ever got their hands on it –" she shuddered at the thought of a Dalek empire with a TARDIS, "well, it wouldn't be in any way good."

"We not goin' to leave them there, are we?"

"Course not!" She scoffed, struggling to stand. "But I don't know how to rescue them yet either. I need time to think," she glanced at him, "and you need to get back to work."

His eyes darted to the clock on the wall. "Shit, yeah, I'm really late."

"Drop me off at the TARDIS on your way?" She asked him, setting their mugs on the table. "I want to have a look through the computer. See what the Doctor was doing before he sent Rose home."

"Sure thing."

She called out to Jackie to let her know that she was going to the TARDIS, and Mickey rolled her towards the lift. The weather had finally broken. The rain was coming down in a gentle, light mist that promised heavy rain later. She didn't mind though. The faint, cool wetness against her face helped to clear her mind as Mickey dropped her off outside the TARDIS, their short journey spent in contemplative silence, before he left her with a pat on her shoulder, hurrying away with his hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped under the worry he held over the fate of their friends. She gripped hold of the handle of the TARDIS and pulled herself up, using the key that she always carried with her to open the door. She dragged her wheelchair inside. She knew better than to leave something like that out for the taking, and she left it by the front door.

The TARDIS was the same as it was when she had left just a few days ago, not that she had expected change. It was a little messier than normal though as there were thick electric cables that stretched from the panels towards the door. At the sight of them, she assumed the Doctor had at least made an attempt at trying to solve the problem before condemning himself to death.

She wondered if all Time Lords were as hopelessly dramatic as hers was – up against a wall and immediately resigning himself to death; it was tedious.

She couldn't imagine Romana being so prone to theatrics. Then again, Romana had been a politician _and_ a friend of the Doctor, which never said anything good about one's state of mind, so perhaps she also had a touch of the odd about her as well. It was a shame they would never get the opportunity to meet. When the Doctor spoke of her, on the rare occasions that he did, his voice soft and filled with warm affection, he always made her sound as though she was someone Zoe would like a great deal.

She pushed away from the door with a grunt and took one step forward.

"This is Emergency Programme One."

She nearly jumped out of her skin. The Doctor's voice rang out and echoed around the room. A curse flew from her mouth, and her heart thundered in her chest. She stared up the ramp with wide, startled eyes and a hand clamped to her chest as a hologram flickered to life before her.

The Doctor stood at the top of the ramp facing her. He was made of light and energy, his form flickering very slightly, and his body transparent; she could see the console and the jump seat through him.

"Zoe, Rose, listen, because this is important," holo-Doctor said, his eyes not quite meeting hers. It felt strange to look at him and not have him look her in the eye. "If this message is activated then it can only mean one thing - I'm in danger, and I mean _fatal._ I'm dead or about to die any second with no hope of escape, and that's okay, I hope it's a good death. But I promised I'd look after you both and that's what I'm doing. The TARDIS is taking you home."

She vaguely wondered when he had made the hologram, and how soon it was into their time together that he thought about such a scenario.

"And Zoe –" her attention sharpened at the sound of her name, "I know you, and you're probably thinking, but wait, Doctor, I know how to fly this." _Made after France then_ she thought to herself. "Well, don't. You're thinking that you'll just bring the TARDIS back to me, but you can't. The TARDIS can't ever come back for me. Emergency Protocol One means that I'm facing an enemy who should never be allowed to get their hands on this machine. I know that you understand that."

She did understand.

After everything he had told her about the Last Great Time War and the Daleks, how could she not understand?

If it was a choice between the Doctor's life and keeping the TARDIS out of Dalek hands, there was no choice to be made. The Daleks could never, ever get their hands on the TARDIS. It simply wasn't an option that she could consider.

It didn't mean she liked it though.

"So this is what you should do," he continued, and she hated that he was talking as calmly as if they were discussing the last book she'd read or where to go for dinner. "Just let this old box gather dust. No one can open it. No one'll even notice it. Let it become a strange little thing standing on a street corner. And over the years, the world'll move on, and the box will be buried. And if you want to remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all - just one thing. Have a good life. Do that for me, Zoe; do that for me, Rose. Have fantastic lives."

His holographic eyes held hers before his form flickered and died.

Zoe could scarcely breathe. She reached out to the side and grabbed hold of the railing. Her head bowed, hair falling over her neck, and she pressed her fingers to her lips in an attempt to keep her tears at bay. It took a long time before she was able to straighten up with no trace of tears or sadness on her. All that was stitched into her skin was a quiet, steadfast determination.

She finished her walk up the ramp and rested her hands on the panel that covered the TARDIS's soul. If she concentrated hard enough, she was able to hear her song. She reached out for the ship, clumsy in her inexperience, and the TARDIS met her halfway, nudging in the back of her mind. She held tightly to the connection, afraid to let go.

"I'm not going to let him die." Zoe said out loud. "I don't know how though. I just know that this isn't how it ends for him. Are you with me?"

All the lights flared bright and powerful in response, and Zoe smiled.

* * *

Before the sun had even crept over the dark horizon, Rose awoke. The estate was still covered in a blanket of darkness that was broken only by the dim orange glow of street lamps that pierced through the thin, gauzy curtains. Tightly, she bound the covers around her, wrapping herself up into a cocoon, and she stared out of the window. In her emotional exhaustion, she'd forgotten to draw the curtains, something that never failed to fill the room with a chill in the winter. She stared miserably through the gauze-like lace and felt disappointment and regret drip through her.

 _She was back._

She shivered a little and pressed her nose into the edge of her duvet, warming it with her breath. It was late September, only a week after they'd left Zoe behind, and the weather that seeped into the flat was sharp and brittle. It had always been a problem as they edged into winter, for no matter what Jackie did over the years to try and stop it the weather always won out. Resenting the cold and her return to the estate against her will, she let her thoughts spiral and circle until her chest was tight with agony.

It was a surprise to her that she had actually slept. With everything that had happened, she wasn't sure that she would be able to, yet she slept without nightmares or memories creeping in to make her toss and turn. She felt well-rested if out of sorts as Rose was acutely aware that the Doctor and Jack were in danger and needed help whilst she lay in her childhood bed that was missing her sister. She turned onto her back and looked for signs of Zoe but saw nothing. It didn't look as though she had come to bed last night.

She listened to the sound of the flat around her. It was quiet with only the usual sounds that she was accustomed to filling the silence: the slow drip of the kitchen tap, the low hum of the fridge, and the occasional creaks of mattress springs when Jackie turned, always restless when asleep. It was different than being on the TARDIS where Rose felt as though she slept in a safe, warm bubble, accustomed to there silence where she could only hear the beat of her heart and the slow rush of her breathing as she fell asleep. It had been difficult at first to sleep in such silence, but she soon grew used to it and missed it now it was absent.

Anger and pain passed across her face. Her forehead creased, and her mouth pursed as she tried to keep the swell of emotion inside of her. She didn't want to cry any more.

She hated that the Doctor sent her away with only his emergency message as a farewell. It was beyond her understanding as to why he did that when she _told_ him that she wouldn't leave without him. A small part of her hated him for sending her away, just as she hated Jack for leaving them to go off to die with nothing more than a kiss. Hot tears pressed out of her eyes and pooled in the corners. She hadn't realised it at the time but she knew it now: Jack had gone off to die. She didn't understand any of it, least of all how everything had gone so bad so quickly. All she knew was that she was angry that she was lying in bed whilst 200,000 years in the future a battle was being waged and there was nothing she could do to help.

She was stuck, trapped in a time and place she thought she'd left behind for good, and she wanted to cry at the thought of going back to that.

How could she go back to such a life after everything she had seen and done?

She was going to be travel with the Doctor forever. She was going to spend her life exploring the universe with him, which was why he couldn't be dead – not her Doctor.

Rose hadn't even had a chance to tell him that she loved him. And she did, completely and utterly.

Her tears spilled out over onto her cheeks. She sniffed and wiped them away as crying wasn't going to solve anything. She needed to get up and go speak with Zoe. Her sister generally had a plan for everything, big or small. It was the same when they were little: Rose would want to do something, and Zoe would plan to make it happen. It was how their double act worked, and it worked well. Besides, Zoe was the smarter of the two. Rose had long since accepted that because it was a hard fact to ignore. Whilst Zoe was speaking and reading by the age of two, Rose was struggling to spell correctly by the age of five, her letters wonky and back to front; Zoe started correcting her homework when she was six and didn't stop until Rose left school with her handful of average GCSEs.

It didn't bother her any more. It had when she was little though, aware that people judged her against Zoe and found her wanting.

Travelling with the Doctor taught her that she was smart in her own way. She was clever in a unique and special way that had value. It still amazed her when she noticed something that the Doctor, Jack, and Zoe missed, and she felt more confident in herself than she ever had before. She was reclaiming the confidence that Jimmy Stone drained from her and that being Zoe Tyler's sister had kept her from fully seizing. She was smart, she knew that now in the same way that she knew that Zoe's brand of cleverness with books and equations and words was what they needed now.

If anyone on Earth could figure out how to rescue the Doctor and Jack, then it was her little sister.

She stared up at the ceiling and drew in a deep breath. She steadied herself. She could do this. She could get up and help save the Doctor and Jack. She pushed back the covers and shuffled out of bed.

She was wearing a pair of her sister's pyjamas – confused as to why there were penguins in top hats decorating them -, and she took a hair tie from the bedside table. She pulled her blonde hair up into a messy bun on the top of her head and moved out of her bedroom quietly so as not to disturb Jackie. A quick search of the flat told her that Zoe wasn't there. She pulled a pair of trainers onto her feet and tugged her jacket on before she slipped out of the flat into the cold.

It was a long and cold walk to the TARDIS that remained on the corner around the back of the estate. She huddled into her coat and hurried to close the distance, eager for the warmth. The door opened under her touch. She took comfort in the familiar hum and strange alien aesthetic of the console room.

To think that she had once been scared by it when now it felt like home.

"Zoe?" Rose called out, shutting the door behind her. "Are you here?"

There was a brief pause as her voice traversed the rooms of the TARDIS before – "kitchen!"

Rose walked into the kitchen to find Zoe dressed in a a pair of jeans and a jumper, both of which hung loose on her thin frame, swallowing her whole and making her look younger than she was. She had her mobile tucked between her ear and shoulder as she jotted something down in a notebook. She looked up when Rose entered and gave her a smile. It didn't look as though she had slept at all. Her hair was pulled back up off her face, a strip of purple cloth keeping it from falling into her eyes. She tapped the end of her Biro against the lined paper in a way that reminded Rose of the hundreds of times she'd seen Zoe studying. She had the same expression on her face she got when she wasn't making the progress she wanted: mildly annoyed and slightly constipated.

"I appreciate your help, Alistair, I really do," Zoe said, rubbing at her forehead. Rose put the kettle on for a cup of tea as she listened into the conversation. She could just make out the low, deep murmur of a man's voice on the other end. "No, I understand that but the time frame just won't work for me. I don't physically have that much time to spare."

She leaned back in her chair and picked up her cup. A grimace stole across her face when she realised the coffee was cold. Rose picked up her tea and joined her at the table just as a small grin appeared.

"Well, you're not wrong," she said to Alistair. Thank you for this, and I'm sorry for waking you so early in the morning. We'll speak soon, bye."

"Who was that?" Rose asked as Zoe set her phone down and pushed her cold coffee away from her.

"Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart," Zoe said, fists rubbing her tired eyes. "I met him after Downing Street was destroyed. He's an old friend of the Doctor's, and he used to run UNIT back in the day. He stays on as a consultant now, and I wanted to see whether UNIT could help with building the generator that the Doctor was trying to make."

Going through the TARDIS computer systems was a breeze as the Doctor had spent weeks teaching her the ins and outs of it. It helped her discover what his plan was and exactly why it was doomed to failure: he simply needed more time than he had. Unfortunately, he was stuck on the Game Station and she – someone with significantly less scientific knowledge than the average Time Lord (and human, if she was honest with herself) – was not. She couldn't make heads or tails of the Delta Wave generator. She didn't even know what a Delta Wave was and had to Google it but that hadn't helped her in any way, shape, or form; it just raised more questions. She sent the information across to Alistair instead in the hope that UNIT's scientists could make sense of it.

Preliminary reports from their scientists, who had been roused from their beds in response to her call, indicated that it was a science far beyond where humans' understanding of science was at the present time.

Rose couldn't remember if she had heard of UNIT before. "What's UNIT?"

"They're the Unified Intelligence Taskforce," Zoe said, covering a yawn with the back of her hand. "They operate under the United Nations, and they're charged with investigating and combating extra-terrestrial threats. They've been operating since the 1960s or 1970s. I forget exactly which, but the very, very brief experience I've had with them tell me that they're good people."

"Can they help?" She asked hopefully, but, Zoe shook her head, and her hope died as quickly as it was born.

"I sent them information on what the Doctor was doing," Zoe said with a small sigh, her body sinking under the weight of it all. "From what I can figure, he was trying to create something called a Delta Wave generator, which - as far as I can make out, and I can't make out a lot because it's well over my head - will fry the brains of anything caught in the crossfire."

Rose nodded, following along.

"But the problem is," she continued, " - and I think this is what tripped him up – is that it will fry the brain of _anything_ caught in the wave, not just Dalek brains but humans too. You and I both know the Doctor would never do that and so he's stuck. He needs more time but he doesn't have it." She rubbed her nose with the flat of her palm, frustrated. "I hoped that UNIT would be able to help. They've got some of the best scientists in the world working for them but Alistair was telling me that those scientists have never seen anything like a Delta Wave before. They can't even guess at the science behind it. I spoke to a Dr Taylor who, excitability to one side, seems to know what he's talking about. He says that it'll take them decades, possibly longer, to untangle it enough to understand the science well enough to start working on a solution."

Worry clawed at Rose. She had expected and hoped that Zoe would have a solution in hand for them, something quick and easy, but her heart kept sinking the more Zoe talked. She wrapped her hands around her warm cup of tea and cradled it close. "Then what're we goin' to do?"

Zoe heaved a heavy sigh and tugged on her sleeves, bringing them down to cover her palms.

"I'm still working out the details," she admitted, "but I think I've got the beginnings of a plan."

Rose brightened, optimistic. "What is it?"

"There are friends of the Doctor who might be willing to help," she said thinking of Dr Liz Shaw and Zoe Heriot. The Doctor had spoken very highly of both of them, claiming them to be people – _scientists –_ with exceptional minds. "I just need to track them down and talk to them."

"How you goin' to do that?"

"Dr Shaw will be easy enough," Zoe said thoughtfully, "as she used to work for UNIT, so Alistair can find her for me, but Zoe Heriot will be a problem. Her memories were wiped of all knowledge of the Doctor and she's _somewhere_ in the future. I'll need to use the TARDIS to track her down."

"How?"

Zoe blinked at her, confused. "How what?"

"How you goin' to do that?" She asked. "The TARDIS is broken."

"She's not broken," Zoe replied with a small, dismissive wave of her jumper-covered hand. "She was just under instructions not to let you alter her flight path. The Doctor didn't want you reversing the trajectory, or accidentally sending yourself to the moon when you were fiddling with the console. He taught me how to fly her, so it's not a problem for me."

Excitement bloomed through Rose.

"Then we can go back," she said, shifting in her seat, eagerness and hope coursing through her. "We can get the Doctor and Jack!"

A small wince passed across Zoe's face. "We can't."

"You just said -"

"I said I can fly her just fine," Zoe interrupted, "but I didn't say I was going to take her back to them. It would be tantamount to suicide. I'm going to pay a visit to Zoe Heriot, maybe Dr Shaw if she's in another country, and that's it for now."

Rose stared at her with anger beginning to spark in her brown eyes. "He needs our help, Zoe."

"I know that -"

"And you're just goin' to do nothin' whilst he dies?" Rose demanded. Zoe's jaw tightened, and her fingers tightened on her sleeve. "I thought he was your friend!"

"He _is_ my friend," she said sharply. "They both are, and I'm going to do everything I can to save them, but I will not risk the TARDIS falling into enemy hands."

"It's worth the risk!"

"The hell it is!" Zoe snapped, hand slapping down on the table loudly. Rose jumped, surprised. Zoe took a deep breath to calm herself, her nostrils flaring. "Rose, you know what the Daleks are capable of. You saw it in Van Statten's bunker –"

"It wanted to feel the sun on it's face," Rose argued. "That was all."

"And how many people did it kill first?" She asked her. Rose looked down at her tea. "You showed it mercy in the end and that was a wonderful thing to do, but I've seen what one Dalek can do _and_ what three in orbit can do; I don't ever want to see what an armada of them can do. I especially don't want to see what they're of doing if they ever get their hands on Time Lord technology. It was bad enough when they were faffing around with 1940s tech."

"Then we'll be careful!" She protested. "We'll land close to the Doctor and – and then –"

"And then what?" Zoe asked, exasperated but not unkind. "We save the Doctor but sacrifice Jack? Sacrifice all those billions of people who live on Earth in 200,000 years? Is that what we do?"

Rose hesitated, ashamed of herself for suggesting it. "No – no, of course not, but there has to be somethin'."

"That's what I'm trying to do, Rose," she said. "I'm trying to find something to help. I'm sorry it's not quick and easy, but I don't understand even an inch of the science behind this stupid generator. What detailed information there is, is in Gallifreyan, and the TARDIS won't translate that."

"Have you asked her nicely?"

Annoyance flared in Zoe and her face twisted like elastic.

"Have I asked her nicely?" She repeated incredulously, and Rose grimaced. "Of course I've fucking asked her nicely! I've even threatened, which got me an electric shock for my troubles."

"All right, all right," Rose said placatingly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean – I'm just sorry."

Zoe leaned across the table and stretched out her hand. Rose slipped hers into it. Despite her frailness, there was a strength in her sister that she appreciated.

"I know you're frustrated," Zoe said, "and I know you're scared. I am too. But I need you to be patient whilst I figure this out. I will figure this out, but I need some time to think."

Rose nodded, quiet and sad. She wished she hadn't woken up. She wished she'd slept for just a little bit longer so as to delay this inevitable conversation.

"I just don't understand," she admitted tearfully. "The Doctor beat them before."

Zoe squeezed her hand before leaning back. "He lost his entire planet to the Daleks, and all of his people. I wouldn't exactly call that a victory."

"But if we can get to the Doctor, he can stop them though," she said because it was all so clear to her that she couldn't understand why Zoe – her smart and brilliant sister – wasn't understanding how easy it was. "He can have more time because we'll give him more time. He can save Jack and Earth and everythin' if we just go to him."

A muscle in Zoe's jaw flickered. Tension ran through her, and her back started to ache with it. She needed to spend some time floating in the relaxation pool to relieve the strain her body was under.

"That's not how Time works," Zoe said, carefully patient. She tried to find the right words to explain the lesson she had learned the hard way when she was trapped in the 18th century with Reinette. "Right now, we're not part of events. The TARDIS leaving the Game Station with you on board took her and you outside of those linear events. The second we go back, the clock starts running, and we're back in the game. If - and this is a big if - we go back, then we have to go back with a solution already in hand because the Doctor can't leave as he's tied into what's happening. He's got to see it through in real time."

Judging from the expression on Rose's face, Zoe could see that she still didn't understand. Not that she blamed her. It had taken Zoe years to fully absorb this particular lesson of time travel, and it was done in a way she wouldn't wish on anyone.

"He's dyin', Zo," Rose said weakly, brushing her hand over her face to snatch away her tears before they dripped into her tea.

Zoe sighed, feeling older than she was. "I know."

"Right now, he's dyin'," she said, and, despite her efforts, fresh tears pooled in her eyes. A flicker of resentment crowded into Zoe's chest at how easy those tears came to her sister, and how she had the luxury of crying without having to provide a feasible solution. She forced those ungenerous thoughts away. " He's dyin' for us – for humans. We've got to help him."

"I am going to do everything I can to do just that," Zoe repeated, but she was now at the end of her patience. "But I have to be honest that if it comes down to a choice between rescuing the Doctor and Jack and keeping the TARDIS out of the hands of the Daleks...then the choice is clear, Rose. The Daleks will not get this ship."

Rose stared at Zoe as though she had never seen her before. Feelings of betrayal and disbelief spread out from her chest and filled her fingers and toes.

"The Doctor would do anythin' to save you," she said, her voice wavering and filled with accusation.

"I know," Zoe said heavily. "But I'm not the Doctor."

* * *

Halfway along a quiet, leafy-green street in Notting Hill that was filled with Range Rovers parked neatly next to the pavements, their bonnets shining despite the mid-morning gloom, Liz Shaw paused outside an organic farm shop. It wasn't the type of café she would have chosen for herself. The minimalist décor looked dry and dull. She preferred her local café with aged wood and plants that spilled out of hanging baskets, making her feel as though she was sat amidst a forest. She loosened the scarf around her neck, a dull, throbbing headache lingering from her recent cold, and she stepped inside. The aroma of foreign coffee filled the air: Arabic, Colombian, Ethiopia, and Sudan. The scents mingled together and made her ache for a hot, rich cup of coffee, but Patsy had made her swear off it ever since she was diagnosed with her heart murmur three years ago. The fresh, wonderful smell of coffee made her regret making that promise even if it did help prolong her life.

She stepped inside the shop and wove her way around the plethora of perfectly polished mothers searching for the best organic fruit and vegetables for their precious children to the back of the building where the café was. It was just after lunch in the early afternoon, and it seemed that the lunch rush was over. At one table there was a young man with dishevelled hair and an expensive laptop, typing urgently away on the keyboard, his novel taking shape despite his look of despair. At another table there was a handsome elderly woman whose costume jewellery dripped off her as she sipped at her tea and absently flicked through her dog-eared book. It was quiet and comforting, more pleasant than the outside of the shop indicated it would be, and it was easy to find the woman she was looking for.

Zoe Tyler was sat a table in the corner beneath an abstract painting that looked like an elephant but really could have been anything.

She didn't look at all like the image Liz had created of her in her mind.

When Alistair called that morning, waking her up and making her peel herself away from Patsy's warmth to answer the phone, to tell her that a friend of the Doctor needed her help, she'd been surprised. She hadn't seen or spoken to the Doctor since he had come crashing back into her life not long after they parted ways, his friend Sarah-Jane at his side. Not that she expected it as theirs wasn't the sort of relationship that extended outside the laboratory. She was curious enough to agree to a meeting, and her curiosity only increased when UNIT emailed reams of information about Delta Waves. Out of interest, and out of respect for her old friendship with the Doctor, she agreed to meet with his friend.

She expected Zoe Tyler to be young since the Doctor seemed incapable of choosing to spend time with anyone under the age of thirty, but she hadn't expected her to look quite so ill.

 _Gaunt_ was the best way Liz could think of describing her; _hollow_ was another adjective that came to mind as she closed the distance between them, hand smoothing over her frizzy hair. At the sound of her footsteps, Zoe looked up from where she was writing in a notebook, and her eyes swept over Liz. There was a brief spike of self-consciousness as she felt as though she was being closely examined before Zoe's tired, ill face split into a warm smile that breathed life back into her. Liz was instantly set at ease. Zoe stood, holding onto the back of her chair for support.

"Dr Shaw?" Zoe asked. Liz nodded and a hand reached out towards her. "Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me. I'm Zoe Tyler."

"A pleasure," Liz said, shaking her hand and trying to ignore the skeletal feel of it within hers, afraid if she pressed to hand it would shatter beneath her touch. "I was surprised to receive the Brigadier's call. I haven't heard of the Doctor in some time."

"Certain things have kept him away from Earth for a while," she said with polite ambiguity but Liz wasn't of a mind to press further. "Please, sit. Would you like a coffee?"

"I wish I could," Liz admitted, "but I've had to swear off it. I'll have a cup of tea though, maybe some cake if they have it."

"The carrot cake is particularly nice," Zoe said, fingers twitching towards the small plate that held the crumbs of her own slice.

Liz nodded her acceptance, and Zoe stepped away from the table to place the order. She leaned heavily on a walking stick as she did so, giving Liz the opportunity to quietly examine her unnoticed.

Alistair had given her the rundown on the situation, and it sounded just the sort of thing that the Doctor would get himself mixed up in. He had an impossibly large penchant for attracting trouble and for getting himself into the worse possible situation he could, often dragging innocent people into the mix with him. Sometimes she missed her time with him as every day was different, and she knew that she would learn something new with him; most of the time she was just glad that her life was a little more sedate and less filled with things that tried to kill her or strand her in parallel universes.

Still, she understood the allure for someone young like Zoe.

The Doctor's life was hard to refuse.

Zoe eased her way back over, the gentle _clack-clack_ of her walking stick against the floor a pleasant staccato, and she looked relieved to sit down again. A small sigh slipped from between her lips, and her hand went to the small of her back, massaging a sore spot there.

"Are you well?" Liz asked abruptly, regretting it when Zoe appeared faintly surprised. Patsy was always telling her that she needed to speak less bluntly, but it was a difficult habit to break after a lifetime spent where the best way to get the right answer was to ask sharp and pointed questions. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I just – you don't look well."

She wasn't sure that was any less rude.

"I'm just recovering from an illness," Zoe explained without taking offence. "If you think I look bad now, you should have seen me a few months ago."

Her tea and slice of cake arrived with surprising promptness. The cake did look good and as long as she didn't tell Patsy then the calories didn't count.

"I was surprised to hear from the Brigadier," Liz said as she picked up her fork, "though less surprised to learn that the Doctor's got himself into some trouble. What is it this time? Silurians? Parallel universes?"

"Neither," she replied before curiosity flickered across her face. "Silurians?"

"You haven't met them?" Liz asked, deciding that the cake was very good despite how little the café impressed her. "They're a species native to Earth that pre-date humanity. They're look a little like upright reptiles."

"That is so cool," Zoe said, enthralled. "What happened to them?"

"They went underground," she said, surprised that she was enjoying sharing her bespoke knowledge. "Their scientists predicted that an asteroid – I think it was an asteroid – would suck the atmosphere away from the Earth, rendering the planet uninhabitable, so they built shelters beneath the crust of the planet so their species could survive."

"And did they?"

"It's difficult to say for sure," Liz replied.

Zoe leaned back in her seat, amazed. She looked down at the ground and wondered what slumbered beneath the Earth's surface that she hadn't known about.

"Blimey," she said happily, "you think you know your own planet but then you get your mind blown." Liz's mouth twitched at how delighted she seemed to discover something new. "But sadly it's not Silurians because that would be so much cooler, and possibly less terrifying. Unfortunately, it's the Daleks that are causing the problem."

Liz scraped the side of her fork gently along the plate, gathering crumbs and cream cheese together, before popping into her mouth.

"I've read UNIT reports on them, but I've never encountered one myself," she said after a moment's thoughtful silence. "From what I understand, they're deeply unpleasant and extremely dangerous."

"They're the most dangerous creatures in all of existence," Zoe said, curious delight replaced with sobriety. "I've met them twice now: once in 2012, again in 1941. Both times I've had trouble sleeping for days afterwards. They're just...they're nightmares made real." She appeared lost in her thoughts and memories before she snapped out of it. "Do you know why I've asked to meet you?"

"The Brigadier simply said that you'd requested it," she said, "and then gave me the information you sent across to Dr Taylor and his team, but I'm afraid I'm otherwise at a loss. I'm not sure how you think I can help you."

"The Doctor has always spoken very highly of you," Zoe said but, before she could continue, Liz snorted in disbelief. A smile ticked on Zoe's face, eyes softening with amusement. "Judging from what he's like now when he's not paying attention, I can well imagine what sort of arse he was back in the day."

"A colossal one," Liz agreed, finding that she quite liked Zoe. "But he does grow on you."

"Like a fungus," she said knowingly, and Liz laughed. "But he has spoken highly of you. He considers you to be – and I quote – ' _not entirely useless_ '."

Liz pressed her lips together, amused. "High praise indeed."

"That's what I thought," Zoe shrugged, taking a sip of her steaming coffee. "I was hoping that maybe you'd be able to make better sense of the science behind the Delta Wave generator. You've worked with the Doctor as a scientist: learned from him, observed him. I understand that you've been working with alien technology for the last twenty or years as well."

She was well-informed, Liz thought to herself, impressed, before pushing her empty plate away.

"I've had a look at what you sent across," she said, "and whilst there are elements of the process that I understand, it's not enough to help in any real way. I agree with Dr Taylor – untangling this will take years."

Zoe's face tightened with disappointment, but it was swept quickly swept by a smile, resilient in the face of overwhelming odds.

"Perhaps you could explain to me the bits you do understand?" She asked hopefully. "Or even give me an idea of where to start? This sort of science is so far beyond me that I don't even know where to start beyond asking UNIT and a few of the Doctor's old friends for help."

Liz thought that to be an eminently reasonable approach, and she mulled the questions over in her mind. "What do you know about Delta Waves?"

"Only what I've Googled," Zoe admitted without shame, never one to be embarrassed about something she didn't know. "I know that it's a high-amplitude brain wave that, in humans, is between 0.5 and 4 hertz. I also know it's got something to do with sleep, but that's really it; and I lifted all that from Wikipedia."

"Well, you're not wrong," Liz said. "And if you're looking for people to help you, then you need to speak with neurophysiologists and biochemists. They should be your first stop, but –" Zoe was jotting the information down in a small notebook, "you also need to build the damn thing. So engineers, obviously, but I've seen the Doctor's calculations and the amount of power the generator needs to create. Assuming that you'll be using the TARDIS to power the thing, then I can safely say that there's no material on Earth that's strong enough to withstand the force of it. The thing'll melt before anything even happens."

"Right, okay." Zoe bobbed her head, hand writing quickly and messily as new problems made themselves known. "That's not a problem. I mean it is a problem, but it's not a huge problem, because I have the TARDIS. I can take her where I need to go to find all of this."

That gave Liz pause for thought. "You can fly the TARDIS?"

She had once asked the Doctor to learn how to operate the TARDIS, deeply curious about the mechanics and the science, but he just laughed in her face, leaving her with the urge to toss her cup of tea over him.

"He taught me when I was sad and miserable," Zoe said, looking up with a small smile even as her hand kept writing. "He doesn't like seeing me upset."

"He sounds like he's changed," Liz murmured, wondering what sort of man he was now and whether or not he had learnt how to make his own cup of tea. "Is he – well?"

Zoe hesitated, hand pausing. "More or less. It's been a long time for him since he was with you. A few hundred years, I think. He still thinks of you though."

Something warm and happy bloomed within her, and she tried to tamp it down, embarrassed that it meant so much to her to be remembered by such a ridiculous man.

"How did you meet him?" Liz asked as Zoe kept writing.

"He was travelling with my sister," she said. "I tagged along once I finished my A-Levels."

Liz drew in a sharp breath. "That was young."

Zoe laughed, eyes sparkling. "Maybe a little, but I'm older now."

"I am curious as to how you've managed to maintain a personal life though," Liz said, and Zoe looked confused at the change in conversation. She nodded at the thin gold ring on her finger. "Your husband?"

"Oh, no," she said, stiffening with awkwardness. Liz realised she might just have waded into something that was none of her business. Zoe twisted the ring around her finger. "I – er – I was married...but she died...about a year ago. So – yeah, I'm widowed now."

Mortification swept over Liz.

"I am so sorry," she apologised. "I didn't mean –"

"It's fine, you didn't know," Zoe said warmly. She set her pen down and flexed her fingers. "What about you though? Have you ever found the time for family and the like?"

"I have a granddaughter," Liz replied, "Elizabeth. She's only six, but she says she wants to be a scientist. And there's Patsy – my partner. We've been together for a while now."

"Does she know about all this?" Zoe asked, twirling her finger in the air to indicate aliens and the Doctor.

"She does," she nodded. "We work together at P.R.o.B.e."

"Helpful," Zoe replied. "My wife was – er – well, to be honest, she was an 18th century aristocrat who really adapted to the whole alien thing astonishingly well, but I knew there were times when she was out of her depth and more than a little scared."

Liz gave a slightly startled laugh. "An 18th century aristocrat?"

"Bit of a long story," she admitted, "but I got trapped in 18th century France for a few years and married her there. Nothing legal, of course, but that didn't matter for us."

"Life with the Doctor, I suppose."

Zoe laughed. "Yeah, life with the Doctor. Ain't it something?"

Thirty minutes later, they both stepped out of the farm shop and onto the cold street. The wind was sharper than it had been when she arrived. Liz tightened her scarf about her. Zoe leant heavily on her walking stick, and concern prickled through Liz at how she was going to get to wherever home was when she wasn't with the Doctor. Zoe brushed off the concerns when spoken and pointed to a black Range Rover where a driver was waiting for her: a UNIT car had been placed at her disposal.

"I am sorry I can't be more help," Liz said honestly, "but this is a too advanced for me."

"You've been more than enough help, thank you," Zoe said honestly. "You've given me a place to start, which is more than I had this morning. Besides, it was also lovely just meeting you. I've been wanting to meet the Doctor's friends for a long time now, so I'm glad that I've had the opportunity to do just that."

Liz smiled at her easy kindness.

"I do hope you're able to solve this," she said, meaning it. "I really do. I'll keep working here and with UNIT, and if we discover anything, I'll make sure the information is sent to you."

"I appreciate it," Zoe said, shaking her hand, and her grip was strong even if she did look as though a stiff breeze would knock her right over. "Thank you again, Dr Shaw."

Liz watched her climb into the back of the car, waving off the help from the UNIT soldier, and settled in behind bullet proof glass. It pulled away from the pavement, and Liz watched it disappear down the room before it turned left. She felt a little out of sorts from such a close brush with the Doctor's life again, but she was pleased that he had someone competent and capable fighting in his corner when he wasn't able to do it himself.

He always did seem to get lucky when it came to his friends, young and pretty though they were.

In the back of the UNIT car, Zoe exhaled on a long, slow sigh. Her eyes felt dry and tight from lack of sleep, and her back throbbed miserably. She should have been using her wheelchair, but it was difficult to manage when she was alone. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat to relieve the pressure on her back, she thought on her meeting with Liz.

She was a little disappointed that the meeting wasn't more fruitful than it was. Whilst she didn't expect Liz to have the answers she needed, it felt as though she was just accumulating breadcrumbs of information in the hope of gluing together a solution. She knew that she needed to exercise the same patience she recommended to Rose, but it was hard when she didn't know what path she needed to walk. There were too many branches ahead of her and only one or two would lead her to the Game Station where the Doctor and Jack were trapped, neither alive nor dead, simply frozen in a moment in time until she started the clock running again.

Tiredness swept over her, and she closed her eyes for a brief moment, letting herself drift. She needed to lie down for a nap before she left to seek out her next port of call: Zoe Heriot. Her brain was sluggish and her body ached fiercely. She needed a nap, some food, and possibly some time spent doing a number of aquatic exercises that would help her with the pain in her back.

"Outside the flat, ma'am?" The soldier, a Lieutenant French, asked her.

His voice startled her awake. "No, the – er – the TARDIS, please. If you take the second right, it'll get you there."

"Yes, ma'am."

Lieutenant French pulled the car down the road, and she peered through the windscreen when she realised that something was blocking the way. She recognised the large yellow recovery vehicle as belonging to Rodrigo, someone who lived on the first floor of Bucknall House and dealt in cocaine along the side of his legitimate business. She could see Jackie and Mickey milling around outside the TARDIS and her heart sank.

"Here's just fine, lieutenant, thank you," Zoe said, snatching up her walking stick quickly, the door opening before the car had even stopped. "Thanks for your help today. Sorry it was boring for you."

He flashed her a smile, cheeks dimpling. "My pleasure, ma'am. Hope it all works out for you."

She shut the door firmly and hurried forward as fast as she could. Her body did not appreciate her haste and screamed out at her to slow down, but she pushed through the pain.

"What the hell are you doing?" Zoe demanded once she was close enough that her words wouldn't be snatched away by the wind. Mickey looked guilty, a large metal hook held in his hands. Rose came running down the ramp towards them at the sound of her voice, and Jackie just looked troubled. "Rose, what are you doing?"

Rose smiled widely, excited. "D'you remember when Margaret turned into an egg?"

"Hard to forget," she frowned, "but what does that have to do with the price of milk?"

"An' the TARDIS opened up with that light and singin'?" Rose pressed on, ignoring her.

"Again, yes," she said carefully. "What's your point?"

"The Doctor's always bangin' on about how the TARDIS is telepathic an' alive, right?" Rose continued, and Zoe nodded. "An' all we need to do is make the return trip –"

"Not this again," she groaned. "Rose, I explained only a few hours ago why that's a bad idea and we can't do it."

"Yeah, well, I think you're wrong," Rose said, tugging her jumper down and standing a little straighter. "I think if the Doctor has the TARDIS then he'll be just fine an' can fix everythin'."

Jackie looked between her daughters uncertainly. Zoe had fallen quiet before she passed a hand across her mouth.

"Rose –"

"We just need to get inside it," she said firmly. "The last time it opened, the Doctor said it was the heart of the TARDIS. If we open it, I can make contact, tell it what to do."

Horror slipped through Zoe like a knife and panic slapped at her.

"No."

"Stop sayin' no!" Rose exclaimed, angry. "You aren't in charge here, Zoe! I'm doin' this."

Zoe flung her walking stick out and used it to block Rose's path to the inside of the TARDIS.

"If you think I won't stop you from doing something so unbelievably dangerous, then you don't know me at all," Zoe said, her voice low with threat. Rose stared at her. "You are not getting in the TARDIS. The only way you will is over my dead body. Am I clear?"

"You're not –"

"In charge," she finished for her. "I heard you the first time. But I've explained to you why we can't take the TARDIS back to the Doctor without a plan in hand. I thought you understood."

"We need the Doctor!"

"We need a plan!"

"I have a plan!"

"God!" Zoe exclaimed, frustration spiralling within her. "Are you incapable of putting two and two together? You said it yourself, the TARDIS is alive!"

Rose shook her head in frustration. "So?"

"So you want to rip her open and let her drain out!" She snapped. "It's obscene, it's horrific, and I will not let you put the TARDIS through that."

"It's a ship!"

"She's not just a ship!" She yelled, her anger and frustration and exhaustion cutting her patience to the quick. "She's a living, breathing thing, Rose! She may not look like it but she is. TARDISes are grown not made, for fuck's sake. Opening her up would be like – like...using your hands to rip open my chest to prod at my heart!"

Rose barely seemed to hear her sister's words. "We have to do somethin'!"

"I – AM – DOING – SOMETHING!"

"Don't yell at me!"

"Don't be a fucking idiot then!" She shouted, unable to lower her voice. "Jesus fucking Christ, Rose. I can't believe that you want to rip open the TARDIS to what? Open your mind to her power? Do you not remember the last time one of us had an insane amount of power rocketing about through their head? Because I do and it fucking hurts!"

"That was different!" Rose exclaimed, her hair whipped around her face by the wind. "This is the TARDIS. It won't hurt us."

"The TARDIS won't be able to help herself," Zoe said sharply. She limped forward, breathless and in pain. She stood between Rose and the door. "You are clearly too fucking emotional to be anywhere near this problem. Go back to the flat. I'll call you when I've figured something out."

"You can't just send me away like I'm a child!"

"I will when you fucking act like one," she spat, angrier than she could ever recall being. "I need to think without you constantly prattling on and complaining about how slow I'm moving, or having to keep an eye out so you don't do something as incomprehensibly stupid as _ripping the fucking TARDIS open_. Now fuck off and leave me in peace."

"I'm not goin' anywhere!" Rose said, and she surged forwards to enter the TARDIS.

Zoe reacted quickly and slammed the side of the walking stick against the soft bend of Rose's knee. She cried out as she buckled and Zoe stepped back into the TARDIS. She slammed the door shut in front of her and quickly flicked the deadlock to stop her sister from using her key. Having a barrier between her and Rose helped her to wrestle her anger back under control. A tight band of pain throbbed in her head, and her mouth felt tacky and dry. She rested her hand against the door and caught her breath. She panted like she had run a marathon.

"Let me in!" Rose demanded, banging her fists on the door. "Zoe, open this door now!"

"No!" She snapped back, petulant even to her ears. "I'm taking the TARDIS to visit someone and you're not bloody invited!"

She grunted with the effort it took to push away from the door and made her way painfully up the ramp. Once she reached the console, she leant heavily against it as bright spots of light danced in front of her eyes, aware that she had overexerted herself. Combined with her lack of sleep, she realised that she was minutes away from passing out. Before she did so, her hands moved across the console and set the TARDIS into flight so that Rose wouldn't find another way into the TARDIS and go through with her ridiculous plan.

Zoe adjusted the dials and input the co-ordinates before she pulled the lever. The TARDIS dematerialised from the Powell Estate; Rose's shouts were swallowed by the sound of the process and she relaxed.

By the time the TARDIS landed in a crater on the moon, Zoe was sprawled across the floor, eyes closed and body finally at rest.


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter Fifty-Five**

 _New Berlin, Luna Colony, 2129_

Above one of the many domes that encapsulated and protected Luna Colony from the lack of atmosphere, stars spread across the black canvas of the universe, interrupted only by ships that landed and took off from the space port on the rear edge of the Eastern dome. Judging by the bright, artificial sunlight that encouraged plants to grow and gave the moon-based humans their necessary vitamin D, it was the middle of the day. People were making the most of the warmth that came from vents beneath the surface and were lying in large, spacious green parks, laughing and talking as they took a break from work. A river flowed through the city of New Berlin, and there were row boats on it that glided lazily across the surface of the water. Walking over the bridge was a troop of children, dressed identically in their school uniforms, led by a teacher who was pointing out the mechanics of the dome that kept them all alive.

Zoe sat on a bench and took it all in with quiet delight.

She had visited the moon only once before and that was to witness the Apollo 11 moon landing in 1969, so she hadn't been able to move far away from the TARDIS. A smile played across her lips as she remembered being overwhelmed with excitement at being able to step out of the TARDIS and leave her footprint in the moon dust. The Doctor laughed when she pulled off her trainer and tugged off her sock, pressing the bare sole of her foot against the dust. She remembered the soft coldness of it. It was one of her happiest memories, early on in her travels with the Doctor, and she was thrilled to see what her people had accomplished with the moon. It was as though all of her hopes and dreams born from her love of science fiction had come true.

People _lived_ on the moon.

Her seven-year-old, Star Trek-obsessed self was bouncing with excitement.

She absently wondered why the Doctor had never taken them there before as it had a a little bit of everything that she loved: space, the moon, science fiction made science fact, and people. The thought disappeared almost as quickly as it slipped into her. They were always so busy with any number of amazing things to see and do that things inevitably fell by the wayside. A brief spark of envy over his long lifespan burnt within her; there were so many things she wanted to see and do that she just didn't have enough time for. Her mind brushed over the hundreds of thousands of galaxies and planets and people that she would never be able to meet or even know because she had a human lifespan that would flicker and die before she was ready for it.

It wasn't that she wanted to live forever; it was just that she wanted to see everything there was to see before she died.

She didn't think that was too much to ask.

Under the artificial sunlight, the source of which Zoe couldn't quite determine, she pushed herself back onto her feet to follow the path along the river. Her health was marginally better than it had been, and she felt better than she had done after slamming the door in her sister's face. Despite how uncomfortable the grating was, she slept deeply and well, though her cheek was dimpled with the pattern of the floor for some time after. She ate, showered, exercised, and then slept again before she finally felt alert enough to continue with her plan.

She often wished to be back at her full strength, tired of everything taking so long and hurting so much, but her desire for a healthy body had quadrupled since Rose's dramatic return. She believed that she would be making quicker progress if her body wasn't holding her hostage to a slow pace, healthy diet, and regular rest.

As it was, Zoe was forced to limp slowly but methodically down the river path whilst wondering where the water came from. Had it been transported to the moon? Had scientists been able to create or stimulate fresh water reserves beneath the surface? They were questions she would normally ask the Doctor, thereby launching him into a long and ponderous explanation that would bore Rose to tears but keep Zoe and Jack happily engaged. Instead, she was forced to simply dismiss the questions from her mind. She didn't have the time or energy to find the answer to them.

"Want your hologram rendered, Mx?"

"I'm sorry?" Zoe said to a tall, thin man with a head that shone under the light. He was wearing what seemed to be in fashion in New Berlin: tight trousers and a loose cotton shirt that rippled faintly in the breeze.

"Want your hologram rendered?" He repeated with an easy smile, gesturing at his easel that she realised was electronic.

"I had no idea that was a thing," she admitted, inching closer curiously "Do people not use paints any more?"

"Only the classic painters," he said. "You know, the ones who want to mimic the great artists. Most everyone uses solar easels these days?"

"Solar easels?"

He looked bemused. "Where've you been if you don't know this stuff?"

"Oh, you know, _art,_ " Zoe recovered, rapping her knuckles against her head. "Bit too esoteric for me. It's pretty amazing though."

"Thanks," he grinned. "Fancy having one done?"

"I really wish I could," she said honestly, "but I'm on my way to meet someone."

"Well, here," he said, picking up a small, flat, circular tab that he handed to her. When she took it, his business card popped up in hologram form. "You change your mind, or someone you know wants something holographically rendered, give me a call."

"I will. Thank you...," she promised, checking his name quickly. Amusement flashed through her. "Your name is Art?"

"Short for Arthur," he grinned mischievously. "Couldn't resist the easy pun though."

"My kind of guy," she laughed. "See you around, Art."

The urge to explore and discover simmered within her. New Berlin was but one city on the moon, and she wanted to see them all: explore all the nooks and crannies, find the best places to eat and drink, and discover the secrets that lay within colony on the moon. She was there for a reason though, and she couldn't let herself become distracted even though she wanted to follow the river all the way along and see where it went. As she split off from the path and walked along the flat ground, for there were no hills in New Berlin, she promised herself that she would come back and explore at her leisure, hopefully with the Doctor, Rose, and Jack to keep her company.

Following the map on her phone, she eventually arrived at the residential care facility where Zoe Heriot lived.

It was an aesthetically pleasing building even if it did remind her of a silver egg – curved and large at the bottom but tapering into a small dome at the top. It was set within a neat and tidy copse of trees that helped keep the air clean and generate oxygen so that the colonists dependence on the expensive exports of oxygen from Earth was reduced.

Looking up at it, Zoe could see the attraction, but it wasn't somewhere that she ever wanted to live herself. For her retirement, she liked the idea of a small cottage somewhere by the sea with a large garden where she could grow flowers, and there had to be enough room for a library in whatever house she lived in. Regardless, it looked a lot better than the care home she remembered Grandma Tyler living in before she died. No one had been able to afford to send her to a private care home, so she had had to live in a state-run care home after her second fall in a year left her barely able to move. Zoe remembered the sense of unhappiness that pervaded the home despite the best efforts of the extremely overworked, care workers.

The sort of non-life her grandmother experienced terrified her.

She passed beneath a beautiful rose trellis and entered the building. It smelt like honeysuckle and lemon. She felt tension she didn't know she had leave her body as the gentle fragrance swept over her like a cool breeze. She approached the front desk where an attractive older woman sat wearing lilac scrubs with her greying hair pinned back. The name embroidered above her pocket was Beatrice.

"Welcome to the Jasmine Retirement Home," Beatrice greeted in her native German; the language had made the move as surely as the people of New Berlin. "How may I help you?"

"I'm here to see Dr Heriot," Zoe said. "I called ahead. I'm Professor Tyler."

"Yes, of course, professor. We've been told to expect you," she smiled, tapping against the flat keyboard. "Your ID, please."

Zoe handed the small plastic card across that had a picture of her in her healthier days with information that said she was a Professor of Astrophysics at University College London on Earth. She mourned the absence of the psychic paper that was tucked in the Doctor's pocket 200,000 years in the future. It was harder having to think ahead about what sort of cover story she would need, but since Zoe Heriot was an astrophysicist, Zoe hoped that it wouldn't be entirely implausible that someone in the field would want to consult with her. As long as no one asked her any questions _about_ astrophysics, she was certain she could maintain her cover.

"Dr Heriot has been told to expect you," Beatrice said, handing the ID back with a smile, "but she may still be surprised. It's the nature of her illness I'm afraid."

"Her illness?" Zoe asked, pausing as she slipped the card back into her pocket. "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that she's ill."

"She's been ill for quite some time," she replied. "It's why she checked herself into the facility. She was unable to live alone any longer."

"Oh," Zoe said, taken aback. "Er – what's – what's her illness?"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that information," Beatrice said politely. "Patient confidentiality, of course."

"Of course, yes. I'm sorry I asked," she said. "Is she able to take visitors?"

"For a short time," Beatrice said, "but I really wouldn't stay longer than thirty minutes. Concentrating for such a long period is quite strenuous for her, and her lucidity suffers afterwards."

"I'll – um – I'll be quick then," she promised and thanked Beatrice for her time before she was led off by a tall, dark-skinned man in matching lilac scrubs who seemed to be universally adored by those who lived in the facility.

Zoe hadn't expected Dr Heriot to be ill. She had simply assumed that she was living in a retirement home because it was easiest for her, or she was old enough that there was nowhere else to go.

In her private set of rooms, Zoe Heriot was sat by the window with a small cat on her lap as she read a physical book. Her room was full of physical copies of books that appeared well-loved with cracked spines and faded edges. Her hand passed slowly across her cat's fur as she read. Before coming to meet her, Zoe had looked for a picture of her in the TARDIS database. When she was Zoe's age, she was beautiful with dark black hair cut to her chin, a lithe body, and an alert expression; as an older woman, she looked frail and almost translucent. Her hair was a thin, wispy white that puffed around her head like a cloud, and her skin, which hung off her, was filled with deep wrinkles. Something had happened to her; something had caused her to age beyond her years, and sadness settled in Zoe's chest and throat.

"Hello," Dr Heriot said, looking up from her book at the sound of the door opening. "Do I know you?"

"Er – no, you don't." Zoe said, clearing her throat. "I called to request a meeting with you. I'm Professor Tyler from UCL."

Blank, uncomprehending eyes stared at her. A deep furrow of thought appeared on her brow, and her mouth puckered. Zoe could see the strain it took her to try and remember.

 _Memory problems_ she thought with quiet horror, _she's losing her mind._

"I –" she began, fingers twitching on the fur of her cat. "I can't –"

"It's okay," Zoe said immediately, moving in. "We don't know each other. I just wanted to ask you a few questions, but it's not important."

It was but Zoe couldn't put her through such a conversation when she couldn't remember speaking to her the day before to authorise the visit. Zoe had called from the TARDIS, looping it back through time, before she stepped out into New Berlin. It was less than 24 hours old for Dr Heriot, and she couldn't remember it.

"No, no," she protested. "You've come all this way. Would you like some tea?"

"That's very kind, thank you."

"Jamie, off," she said to her cat, dislodging him.

 _Jamie McCrimmon_ Zoe thought as the cat slinked off to stretch in a patch of sun, _something's still there._

The Doctor never liked to speak too much about his friends for the simple reason that he missed them, but he opened up with her, and she knew a little of Zoe Heriot's story.

Her mind was wiped of the time spent with him in the TARDIS. She had travelled with him and the infamous Jamie McCrimmon for a while before the Time Lords took their memories so that they would only remember their first adventure with the Doctor and not everything that came after it. When he told her that, she marvelled at the unthinking cruelty of the Time Lords to take away such wonder and knowledge and leave people bereft. She knew that she would rather die than have her memories erased. She couldn't bear the thought of losing the last seven years: the Doctor, Jack, _Reinette_ , and everything else. She wouldn't be her without those memories, and she ached for Zoe Heriot and Jamie McCrimmon, mourning the loss that they didn't know to mourn.

"Here," Dr Heriot said, serving up the tea in fine-bone china cups. "Sugar?"

"No, thank you," Zoe replied. She had forgotten to add the tea bag and so Zoe sipped hot water instead. "Dr Heriot, I need your help with something. I've been told you are one of the finest minds of the 21st century, and I don't know who else to go to."

"I'm afraid my mind isn't what it once was," she said, rubbing at her temple. "It was experimented on when I was child in the Elite Programme. It's been getting worse...my memory..."

Zoe didn't know what the Elite Programme was, but she nodded as though she did.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, "I am. I wouldn't bother you if I had any other choice. Do you – do you remember the Doctor?"

Dr Heriot raised her eyes to hers. "The Doctor?"

"Yes," she nodded, hopefully. "He's a Time Lord, an alien from another planet. You met him once onboard the Wheel?"

Her head moved back and forth in a slow shake, her hair catching on the seat behind her. "No...I... _no_."

"He needs help," Zoe pressed, "and I think you might be able to –"

"I have such dreams," Dr Heriot whispered, interrupting Zoe who clamped her mouth shut. "Such wonderful and mad dreams. I'm at a bazaar in space, and then I'm in the past on Earth and – and they don't like smart women there. and then I'm on a planet and I'm with two people who I love very much but then I'm gone and gone and gone and gone –"

"Dr Heriot," Zoe slid forwards onto her knees before her, taking the cup from her and seizing her hands. "It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I should never have come here. Please, forgive me."

"Who are you?" She demanded, her eyes wide and glassy, anger and fear within them. "Who are you!"

Her thin hand wrenched back and lashed out. Zoe's hand snapped to one side as nails dragged down her cheek, sharp with pain. She immediately released her hands and stood as quickly as she could. Dr Heriot was twisting and shouting in her seat, unable to make sense of the glimpses of her memories that had long been hidden from her. Zoe felt sick to her stomach at what she accidentally triggered. As the nurses rushed in to help soothe her, Zoe stepped out and walked steadily until she found a bathroom whereupon she dropped to her knees and threw up into the toilet.

She wished she had never come. She wanted nothing more than to pull the truth from her brain and flush it down the toilet with her stomach contents. The Doctor couldn't know what happened to Zoe after they parted ways. The man she knew wasn't capable of letting one of his friends live such a life when he could do something to stop it. She wondered if Jamie also experienced the same deterioration in memory, and the thought hurt because the Doctor always spoke so fondly of Jamie.

She didn't know if she would be able to tell him, certain that it would break his hearts.

Finding the flush on the toilet, she pressed her forehead against the rim of the bowl and tried not to cry over the fate of Dr Zoe Heriot.

* * *

For as long as Zoe had been onboard, the kitchen was the hub of domestic life on the TARDIS. It was where they ate their meals, relaxed, and laughed the most. There was almost always someone in the kitchen making a fresh pot of tea, cooking dinner, baking a cake, or doing a crossword puzzle. It felt like home more than any other part of the TARDIS, and Zoe was glad to be surrounded by its familiar warmth and comfort as she mulled over her meeting with Dr Heriot.

A cup of strong tea was clasped firmly between her hands as she frowned at the wall, thinking hard. Although she had scrubbed away the taste of vomit from her mouth and gargled with mouthwash until the inside of her mouth burned with minty disinfectant, a feeling of light headedness and wooziness lingered in her. She hadn't expected to find Zoe Heriot as she had. The cowardly part of her wanted to forgot all about it, but it was seared into her now and, one day, if she was able to save him, she would have to tell the Doctor what had happened to his friend.

She dreaded that day.

For now, she swallowed a large mouthful of tea that helped to strengthen her resolve and lift her spirits. She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her jumper, sniffing into it, considering her situation.

None of the avenues she thought would yield something had given her the kind of gains that she had hoped for. UNIT had been her best hope, but Dr Taylor dashed that early on with his realistic appraisal of the situation. Liz Shaw had been more of a wildcard, but at least Zoe gained a starting point for where to look for answers. And Zoe Heriot was the biggest disappointment and the largest hurt that would linger for a long time. She had known that not everyone who travelled with the Doctor got a happy ending, but seeing it in the flesh was eye opening.

When faced with problems in the past, Zoe normally overcame them by accepting that the situation was what it was and working within the bounds of it. She didn't have to like it, but she did have the accept it. That attitude helped her in France. Being stranded there was the single-most difficult thing that had ever happened to her, and she kept wishing for something to miraculously happen so that she could leave. When it didn't, she hardened herself to the reality and made a good life for herself there. She flourished within the bounds that Time trapped her in, and she wouldn't change those years for the world.

She twisted her wedding ring around her finger and thought about where she should go from here. She was coming to the realisation that no _one_ person would be able to help her. The science was far too advanced. She didn't know if it was Time Lord science or simply something that the Doctor had picked up over the years and cobbled together in his time of need, but whatever it was, it was going to take time and lots of people. Or, she considered, it would take time and one very dedicated person with an improved ability at learning things and retaining the information. She traced a pattern on the wooden table as she considered her choices.

One option was that she could simply wait and let the problem resolve itself. It would be years before it did – she knew that – but eventually someone would figure out what to do. Then, she would be able to go back for the Doctor. However, if it happened after her lifetime, which was also a possibility, then her nieces or nephews or possibly even her own children could pick up the baton. An image came to her mind of a daughter who looked just like her – she was piloting the TARDIS and running across alien planets with the Doctor who would keep her safe because she was Zoe's daughter. A huge, powerful swell of jealousy nearly choked her, and she closed her eyes. She didn't want that. She wasn't even sure she wanted children but she knew that she wanted to be the one who ran with the Doctor. It might be selfish but it was the truth. Another truth that she was certain of was that she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she left the Doctor and Jack in limbo like that, which meant letting the problem resolve itself was out of the question.

The second option was that she could solve the problem herself.

It was an ambitious idea considering that whilst Zoe liked science as much as the next person, it wasn't something that she was overwhelmingly passionate about. She understood bits and pieces when the Doctor and Jack went off on a tangent, and she liked to know how things worked, but her interests primarily lay in history and languages. It would also take time, perhaps more than she really had because she didn't know how much she needed to learn and understand, but she was smart and dedicated and she had a compelling reason to find a solution because she loved the Doctor and Jack and wanted them safe. She also had the TARDIS who could guide her, an entire library of advanced scientific books that no one else had access to, and an instinctive desire to learn.

Hard work never worried her, but she was aware that failure would have catastrophic results. She wasn't sure what a universe without the Doctor racing around to keep things in check would like like, but she knew she didn't want to find out.

"I don't suppose you have any suggestions, do you?" Zoe asked hopefully, breaking the silence as she tipped her head back to address the TARDIS. "Because I reckon you want to save him even more than I do."

There was a brush of agreement in the back of her mind that comforted Zoe, letting her know that she wasn't alone in her endeavour. Rose was going to be no help considering that her idea of helping involved ripping the TARDIS open, which was not a plan in any way shape or form: it was just another problem. Mickey and Jackie would do their best, but there would be no tangible help from them. UNIT would keep working but, in reality, Zoe was alone with the crushing weight of responsibility on her slender shoulders. She rubbed at her eyes, her head hurting, and she tried not to let herself become overwhelmed otherwise she would spiral self-destructively.

Her phone beeped, and she looked at it. There were numerous messages from Rose that oscillated between blinding fury and pleading sadness. She deleted all of them. Her mouth lifted in curiosity at a message from the TARDIS. She tapped on the message, and it led her through to a web page for the Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

"Why did you send me this?" Zoe asked, bemused, and she went to scroll through it but the TARDIS had control and clicked through to the undergraduate's page where it rested on one particular programme: **Computer Science and Molecular Biology.** She scanned it quickly. "I appreciate your confidence in my intellectual abilities, but I don't think MIT is right for me. I'm not even from the 31st century. How am I even going to get accepted without the psychic paper?"

The screen shifted and began rolling through her admittance letter, 31st century American social security number, her visa, her birth certificate, and her academic transcripts. Her eyebrows climbed higher and higher on her forehead as she read through them. Everything was kept more or less the same with a few necessary alterations, and there were no lies on her academic transcripts; she really did know everything on there, even if she hadn't studied it at school. She wondered how long the TARDIS had been sitting on such things and whether the Doctor had created them in case she wanted to study somewhere other than the 21st century.

"I'm not sure about this," she said nervously. "This is a little...it's not what I expected when I planned on going to university."

The sensation that rolled through the back of her mind made her think of the Doctor rolling his eyes at her. She scowled and tried to push the TARDIS away from her, uncertain of how much she succeeded even though the ship's telepathy crept back to let her think. She toyed with her phone and used her thumb to move between her documents and the MIT webpage. It wasn't as though she was against the idea of heading to MIT. She was vain enough that she liked the prestige that would come by saying she studied at MIT, but it was a big commitment. It wasn't at all like going to UCL to study History where she would live at home to save money and keep on working at McDonald's to pay for her transport. This was so much _more_ than that, and it frightened her.

It shouldn't because she had done much harder things, but it did.

Still, it was the most sensible plan she had. She could learn what she needed in order to save the Doctor and Jack. It wasn't the quick-fix solution that she was quietly hoping for, but she had known that was a long shot anyway. Quick-fix solutions only seemed to occur when the Doctor was around, and she knew that wasn't a coincidence. He was the smartest person she had ever met and had a huge wealth of knowledge and experience to fall back on. Next to him, she was a baby floundering around in the crib. Of course she wouldn't be able to help him and Jack without putting the work in.

"Okay," Zoe said with a slow sigh, swallowing against the anxiety that climbed her throat. "Right. You're right, of course you are, but back home first, eh? Mum will actually kill me if I disappear for years on end again."

She took the TARDIS back home only two days after her departure. She could have landed only an hour after she left, but she was still irritated with Rose and making her wait seemed like a fitting punishment. The rain was pounded against the concrete heavily, and she snatched an umbrella from the stand before making her way across the courtyard. By the time she reached Bucknall House, she was grumbling.

Shaking the water from the umbrella, she leaned heavily against the wall in the lift and thought how difficult the next few years would be. It was different to the time spent with Reinette because although she had chosen to break the Time Window, she hadn't actually thought she would be stranded there. She was seventeen and full of hopeful idealism and trust that the Doctor would come for her immediately. Now she was older, she was aware of the consequences of her choice to spend years away from home, and it made her feel out of sorts and grumpy as she had just come home.

She was relieved to reach the flat, digging her key out of her pocket, and stepping into the warmth. "I'm home!"

"Oh, thank God!" Jackie exclaimed, flying out from the living room to wrap her up in a tight hug that made her laugh, pleased to be back. "It's been two days! We've been worried sick."

"Sorry," she apologised, breathing the smell of her mother in. "Everything took a little longer than I thought."

"You all right, mate?" Mickey asked, hugging her gently. He was warm, comfortable, and familiar, and she wanted to sink into him. "You look knackered."

"I think that's just how I look now," she said with a small smile, eyes falling on Rose who seemed hesitant to approach her. "Rosie."

"It go okay?" Rose asked, hands in the pockets of her baggy jeans.

"Not really," she admitted. "Things didn't go as I thought they would, but I'll explain in a bit. Can I sit down first?"

"Of course," Jackie said, ushering her in. "We were just havin' dinner. You hungry?"

She shrugged out of her coat and hung it up. "Starved."

Despite how much Rose clearly wanted to pump her for information, she kindly refrained whilst Zoe practically inhaled a Lancashire hotpot. She was much hungrier than she thought and happily finished Mickey's portion off as well before she felt relatively satisfied. She wiped at her mouth with a tissue dug out from her pocket and sat back, feeling a little better. Rose chose that moment to pounce.

"What happened?" She asked. "Who did you go an' speak to?"

"I went to see a pretty famous astrophysicist called Dr Heriot," Zoe said whilst stealing Mickey's tea as well. "But it was a dead end. She's – she wasn't able to help unfortunately. It was the same with UNIT and Dr Shaw: the science is just too advanced."

"Then we should do I what I suggested," Rose said, leaning across the table, and Zoe's mouth tightened in displeasure, but before she could say anything, Jackie did.

"Rose," their mother said warningly, "we've talked 'bout this."

"But –"

"My answer will always be no to that, Rose," Zoe said firmly, and Rose scowled angrily at her but she argued no more, sinking back with her arms folded across her chest. Jackie nodded for her to continue. "I do have the beginnings of a solution though, but it's going to take time. Well, time for me, not so much for you lot."

Mickey rested his elbows on the table and looked at her. "What's that mean then?"

"The science behind what the Doctor was attempting to accomplish is way beyond what we understand now in the 21st century," she explained to her attentive audience. Even Rose, who clearly disagreed with what Zoe was doing, listened closely. "And part of me believes that this is very much Time Lord science and engineering, although I can't be sure, which means that even if I'm able to find people to help, they also won't understand it because the Doctor's people were just so advanced that no one else really holds a candle to them. It would be like trying to make a jigsaw puzzle with pieces that don't fit and when I don't know what the final picture is."

"Okay," Jackie nodded, keeping up. "Then what're you goin' to do?"

"I'm going to do it myself," Zoe said simply and with a small smile. "I'm going to learn the science behind the Delta Wave generator; I'm going to learn how to build it and fine tune it so I don't accidentally commit genocide when it's activated; and I'm going to save the Doctor and Jack."

They all looked confused, and Rose was the one to ask the question. "How?"

"University," she said with a nod. "I'm going to university."

There was a long silence that stretched in the room and filled up the corners before it snapped on Rose's impatience.

"But that'll take years!"

"Only four, hopefully."

"But –"

"It would take decades in this century to unfold the mysteries of the science," Zoe interrupted, "but in the 31st century, I can make quicker progress. I'm a fast learner, especially now that my brain's been pimped up by whatever the Doctor did to it, and I actually enjoy learning so it won't be as awful as it might be for someone else. Also, I get to kill two birds with one stone: save the Doctor and Jack whilst going to university at the same time."

Jackie ran a hand over her face. She was only thirty-nine, but she looked older right then.

"This is madness," she said tiredly. "Absolute madness. You can't do that, sweetheart."

"I can," Zoe replied, "and I will. I can't think of another way that has better odds of succeeding than me just doing it myself. And I know that sounds really egotistic but the Doctor's been teaching me some stuff, and I've understood most of it. This'll be hard but it's not impossible for me. This is something I can do."

"I'm not questionin' your abilities, darlin'," Jackie said. "God knows you're the smartest person on the estate. I just don't want you gone for four years. Not after I've already missed seven years of your life. You'll be nearly thirty when your done. Only nine years younger than me."

Zoe hadn't thought of that, but her commitment didn't waver. "The Doctor –"

"Oh, fuck the Doctor!"

"Mum!"

"You don't owe him nothin', Zoe, _nothin',_ " Jackie said angrily, leaning across the table and taking her hands in her own. Mickey leaned back and looked troubled. "He's turned your life upside down ever since he met you. You've been tortured an' stranded an' nearly killed."

"I owe him everything," Zoe corrected. "I wouldn't change one second of the last seven years, mum, not one. Without him I would never have met Reinette, and my life without her would have been incomplete."

"Sweetheart –"

"And he deserves this," she continued, squeezing her mother's hands. "He has saved the universe more times than I can count; he's sacrificed himself time and time again to save people on planets throughout the cosmos; and he's done the same for Earth more times than we really deserve. He deserves someone to fight for him, mum, and I'm going to do that because he's my friend and he would do the same for me without question: him and Jack both."

"An' what about me, Zoe?" Jackie asked, hot tears pressing at her eyes. "What do I deserve? To be tossed aside in favour of him?"

"Never!" She said fiercely. "Mum, that's not what this is."

"But you're sayin' you're goin' to be gone for years, an' I don't get a say in that."

"I have the TARDIS," Zoe reminded her. "I can be gone for years but back in a heartbeat. You won't even notice I'm gone."

"I don't want that," Jackie argued. "I want to be there for you. I want you to call me an' tell me 'bout uni, an' boys an' girls, an' if you need advice, I want to be there to give it to you. I don't want to be someone you visit every now an' then because you remember you should pop in an' say hi to Mum."

"You think I would do that?" She whispered, hurt. "I spent all that time in France wishing that you were there with me."

"But now you're ready to get into the TARDIS and leave again."

"Because I have to!" She protested. "Someone has to do something."

"Why you?" Jackie cried. "Why does it have to be you?"

"She's right," Rose said, interrupting them. They both looked around at her, surprised. "Zoe's right, Mum."

Jackie sighed, aggrieved. "Oh, not you too."

"No, she is," Rose pressed on. "The Doctor...he's showed us how important it is to do the right thing, an' this is the right thing. It's hard an' difficult, but that doesn't mean it's not worth doin'. It's – it's takin' a stand an' not lettin' things just happen. It's havin' the guts to do what's right when everyone else is panickin' or runnin' away." Her eyes met Zoe's and held an apology there for her past behaviour and support for her next step. "If Zoe says this is the best thing to do, then she needs to do it. She's got the best chance out of anyone to make this work."

Emotion lodged itself in Zoe's throat, and she mouthed _thank you_ at her sister.

"What about if I visit?" She suggested in the silence following Rose's passionate defence. "Once a week. I'll space it out on my end so that it's once a month for me, so you're not waiting too long. How does that sound?"

"Twice a week," Jackie countered, "Sundays and Wednesdays. An' you stay the whole day both times."

"Deal."

"Rose, before I go, I'll put you in touch with UNIT," Zoe said. "They'll keep you updated with their progress and you can let me know."

"Okay," she nodded. "When do you leave?"

"I'll leave in the morning," Zoe said. "No sense in dragging it out too much. I might stop by Reylar first and see my therapist. I reckon I could use a conversation with her given...well, given everything."

Rose nodded with soft eyes. She stretched out her hand, and Zoe took hold of it, threading their fingers together. The four of them sat in silence at the dining room table as a new reality settled on them. Zoe wasn't sure how successful the plan was going to be, but she would give it her best.

The Doctor and Jack were counting on her after all.


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter Fifty-Six**

 _Four Years Later_

 _Massachusetts, Earth, 3143_

The small queue in the bakery was a surprise given the blistering heat that kept most inside their perfectly air-conditioned homes. There was a small chorus of groans when Zoe entered the bakery she visited every day for a breakfast pastry and cup of coffee as the heat from outside swept in. The door slid shut behind her and she enjoyed the cool air rushing over her. She had only been outside for half a minute but her skin was already dotted with sweat and her mouth felt dry. She took her place at the back of the line and removed her phone from the pocket of her skirt, flicking through her messages. She tried not to look at her phone immediately upon waking, preferring to save it for the bakery where she was a little more awake and needed to fill some time.

There was a link to some make-up that Rose wanted for Christmas, and also a reminder from her final year advisor that she needed to schedule a time to defend her thesis. The tip of her finger flicked across her sensitive touchscreen and moved through the available dates. None of them were attractive to her so she chose the less offensive one just before her first exam at the end of the month. It was the earliest date offered to her, and she knew that she didn't need a lot of time to prepare because she could talk about her thesis project – dermal medical implants that were designed to release the exact quantity of medication as per the user's requirements – in her sleep. When the university's computer sent back a confirmation, she attached it to her calendar.

Her remaining messages were from Jackie reminding her that she was expected for Christmas whether she liked it or not, and from Mickey who had sent a picture of Rose in her uniform for the post office. Zoe couldn't help the grin that twitched across her face. Her sister looked _ridiculous_ but it was an honest job and Rose had done far worse in her life.

"One black coffee and an apricot tart," Kira smiled at Zoe, her order ready by the time she reached the front.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm too predictable," Zoe said, swiping she swiped her data card over the flat console.

"You know what you like," Kira replied with a small shrug, tucking a lock of purple hair behind her ear. Her eyes, a green that Zoe suspected wasn't real, fixed on her with a faint hopefulness that Zoe politely ignored. "Busy day ahead?"

"So-so," she said, collecting her breakfast. She gave her a wink and Kira blushed, eyes darting everywhere but Zoe's face. Her crush was well-known but completely harmless. "Have a nice one."

Kira made a strangled sound behind her but Zoe paid her no mind. Her approach was to simply let her have a crush on someone safe and figure out how to actually talk to people she liked. She was much improved over when Zoe first met her three years ago, and she hadn't been able to talk to her without turning red as a beetroot – so many coffees had been spilt in the name of her crush; it was really quite sweet.

Zoe welcomed the hit of coffee to her system when she sipped it on the way out of the bakery, forgoing her usual lazy morning at one of the tables in favour of work that she had left running on the TARDIS. The heat immediately hit her, and she grumbled to herself; it was a disgustingly hot day, and it was only eight in the morning.

Zoe had been disappointed to wake up and discover that the planetary climate control system was still down following protests and strikes from contracted workers from the outer colonies for better pay and working conditions. There was a growing anger and resentment towards the United Earth government over the fact that negotiations with the workers' union had yet to be resolved. Headlines in newspapers around the world loudly and viciously condemned President Oh for failing to uphold basic worker rights, and it was expected that she would have to resign any day now. It was a shame, Zoe thought, as Oh had done a decent job with improving trade amongst the colonies, but the anger was indicative of an overall dissatisfaction with the government.

It didn't help that the unstable weather was causing mass devastation across the world and feeding into the anger that bubbled dangerously beneath the surface.

Despite the anti-gravity platforms to keep it above water level, Venice was submerged beneath three feet of water, and rain wouldn't stop falling in Australia with massive floods sweeping through towns and cities. They were lucky in America – at least as lucky as they could be when the temperatures tended to top 46C – as it was just the heat they had to contend with. People simply chose not to leave their homes, preferring instead to crank up their air conditioning. Those who did leave their homes were generally those involved in the protests that were sweeping the globe, as evidenced by those in the bakery with their holographic signs and extra cannisters of sunscreen spray.

Zoe held her apricot tart between her teeth to open the TARDIS door. It was parked in an gap between two buildings that people didn't notice, or at least they hadn't noticed in the four years she had been there. Upon her arrival, following a somewhat bewildering conversation with two Jehovah's Witnesses who had knocked on her door, she had figured out how to extended the perception filter out so that people walked straight past it and didn't notice that there was a big blue box there. She wished she could say it had taken her barely a minute but at the time the TARDIS's intricate systems were unfamiliar and alien to her. She could fly the ship – more or less – but she had been at a loss as to how to work anything else. It took her three days of crawling from wires and beneath the floor to figure out how to work the perception filter and another week to understand how to extend it properly.

The less said about her accidentally vanishing Massachusetts the better.

She still felt guilty about the confusion and the panic.

The temperature was nice and cool on the inside, and she munched on her pastry whilst walking through the console room and into the room that she had appropriated as a study/work lab. It had been empty and dusty when she came upon it four years ago, looking for a space that she could spread out in as the library was slightly too cavernous for her studying tastes. She had cleaned the room from top to bottom – hair on the top of her head, sleeves pushed up to make room for her rubber gloves, and Queen blaring in the background – before it slowly transformed into the cluttered, comfortable room that it was now.

She bumped open the door with her hip and stepped over a pile of books that she kept meaning to re-shelve in the library. She set her coffee down on her desk and sank down into her seat, brushing the crumbs from her chest as her eyes swept over the programme she had created and named in a fit of drunken creativeness _Doctor in Distress_. It was the penultimate stage in her plan to rescue the Doctor and Jack, and her four years of hard work were nearly at an end. Whilst she would have to run a number of safety simulations to make certain that everything would work as it was supposed to, she was certain that she would have a working Delta Wave generator in the next few hours.

It was a good, _good_ feeling.

"I think," Zoe said through a mouthful of tart, "that when this is over, I'm going to take a holiday."

The TARDIS hummed in the back of her mind, soft and amused.

"Maybe I'll take mum and Rose for cocktails somewhere," she said with her feet propped up on her desk. "Or dancing. _God,_ I haven't been dancing in years."

She hummed to the music that she and Reinette used to dance to and let herself daydream.

For the last four years, she had worked hard to find a way to save the Doctor and Jack, and it was one of the most difficult things she had ever had to do. The TARIDS supplied her with everything she needed to make her admission into MIT above the board and kept her up-to-date with various bureaucratic papers that were occasionally required. No one asked any questions about the authenticity of her paperwork, and she was folded into the class of '43 with perfect, ignorant ease.

It hadn't been smooth sailing though. Her 21st century education hadn't – in any way – prepared her for the rigours of the 32nd educational system. Children were taught maths and physics from a very young age here and her knowledge in both of those subjects lagged significantly behind her peers. The gap she had to cover just to catch up with her classmates was so wide that she thought she would never make it. Nearly every day of her first year at MIT had been spent in tears. The information that was being delivered to her by her lecturers made no sense, and she drove herself to exhaustion just trying to get to grips with the fundamentals of everything.

She overworked herself and ended up having to hospitalise herself in the medical bay, setting her recovery back by months, if not years. It was only now, four years later, that she felt like herself again. Her body was strong, and she worked hard to keep it that way, terrified that she would revert back to the state she had been. In the free time that she allowed herself, she practised yoga and Krav Maga; swam and ran marathons; climbed rock faces and rode horses. As soon as she got her health back, she started making up for lost time, and there was a quiet fear that lingered with her that she would revert back to her frail, exhausted self, so she tried to make the most of her ability to be active.

Eventually though, as with everything Zoe normally put her mind to, things worked out, but only because she put the effort in.

Slowly, advanced mathematics began to make sense to her and she started to understand what her lecturers were talking about in relation to computer science. She began to enjoy her molecular biology classes and started looking forward to working on her assignments. The tears stopped coming and confidence began to fill her instead. She was able to make the connections that her classmates did and soon enough, she was overtaking them in the class rankings.

It wasn't what she thought she would study when she was seventeen but it was fascinating nonetheless. There was a comforting logic to it that, once she could look at it and see the pattern, she enjoyed.

It was only when she had built a solid foundation of scientific and mathematical knowledge, nearly three years after her arrival, that she was able to start work on the Delta Wave generator.

She used the resources of the TARDIS and the human capital of MIT to help her understand what a Delta Wave was and then put it into a physical machine. She hid it under the guise of an extracurricular project so that her professors didn't ask too many questions. Mindful of altering history by introducing something into the timelines that shouldn't be there, she kept careful track of her notes and made sure that her teachers didn't see too much of the overall project.

The programme gave a soft _bing_ , and her eyes snapped to it; it switched over to the third stage of the scan.

"Come on," Zoe murmured, reaching out to tickle the screen as though that would urge it on. "A little bit faster, please."

Impatience fluttered within her. She had waited so long, but the last stretch seemed to be the hardest.

It was strange to realise that she was possibly days away from seeing the Doctor and Jack again. She missed them both terribly. She had made friends in the 32nd century, of course she had, but it wasn't like the last time she had been out of time. Then, she had Reinette and no promise of seeing the Doctor again. She had the space to build herself a life in the 18th century because of the fact that it might have been permanent. There was no such luxury in the 32nd. She always knew that her time there was limited and so she didn't let herself get too close to people. She went for drinks with her classmates, watched holos with them, and enjoyed spirited discussions that lasted until the early hours of the mornings, but she kept herself apart from them.

Her trips home, whilst a welcome respite from the pressure she kept herself under, were a double-edged sword. She loved seeing her family, but it was harder and harder to try and ignore the way that Jackie looked at her, trying to see the passage of time on her face; and it was difficult to have to deal with Rose's repetitive questions of _are you almost done_?. It was only time with Mickey that she could really relax since he let her just sit in silence and drink beer in front of his TV. He didn't pressure her or seem disappointed with her. He just was there for her, and she was eternally grateful to him for that.

Brushing off the rest of the crumbs that spilled over her, she stretched for her coffee and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. She must have dropped off because she woke to the sound of her computer beeping.

Her eyes rapidly flicked over the layers of code that had taken her months to perfect, including one very frustrating month when she realised she had made a mistake and had to spend weeks unpicking the code to make it right again.

"It's done," Zoe said out loud, surprised. She instinctively looked up to celebrate her success with someone before she looked back at the screen. "It's done."

Four years of hard work was represented on the screen before her and, unluckily, the hardest part was yet to come. Everything could still go wrong as the next part of her plan hinged on something so close to impossible that it made her teeth hurt. She drank her coffee quickly down, hoping the caffeine hit would boost her courage, and she swung her feet off the desk.

No time like the present.

* * *

 _One hour later,_

 _Temporal Bazaar, Fluren's World_

" _Zoe, I'm bored out of my mind,_ " Rose complained, her voice perfectly clear despite the sheer distance and time that separated the two sisters. She sounded tired and spread thin. " _Do you have any idea how dull sortin' post is? Because I do. It's the worst_."

"It's an honest job," Zoe replied, the thick, solid heels of her boots made reassuringly heavy thuds against the compact sand path that she walked, winding her way through the busy marketplace. "And, quite frankly, you've done worst jobs. What was that one that you had after you and Jimmy broke up?"

Her sister groaned out a laugh. " _Oh, god, the fishmonger's._ "

"The fishmonger's!" Zoe remembered brightly. She ducked beneath a low-hanging awning that reached out into the street, swinging her hip around a group of small children who looked as though they were up to mischief. "You smelt so bad every time you got home from work that mum made you strip off on the walkway. It put me off fish and chips for months, even after you jacked it in."

" _Don't remind me_ ," Rose grumbled. " _That perv Anwar always happened to be walkin' his dog when my shift ended."_ They both remembered Jackie chasing him off with her trusty baseball bat. _"When are you comin' home? I need a trip in the TARDIS to remind myself there's more to life than work, home, an' sleep._ "

"Not for a couple of days at least," she said, pausing in the street, uncertain if she had taken a wrong turn. "On my end that is. I'll be back on Saturday as promised."

" _Don't forget it's Christmas two days after_ ," Rose said, " _so mum's goin' to want you to stay for the whole weekend._ "

"I know," she said, deciding that she had indeed taken a wrong turn. She doubled back on herself and slipped down a narrow alley between two mud shops that sold porn and baby clothes respectively. "I've already got your email about what you want. Is it me or does Christmas seem to have come about really quickly?"

" _Haven't you had like three Christmases already?_ " Rose asked, and there was a sound of her rolling over in bed, the covers shifting around her.

"Yeah, it's not really celebrated in the 32nd century," Zoe admitted. "Chinese New Year is the bigger holiday now. You'd love it though. The food is unbelievable, and the fireworks are like Gandalf's from Lord of the Rings."

" _Nerd_ ," her sister said pointedly before sighing. " _I'm so jealous of you. You get to live in the future and poke around the TARDIS. And I get to sort Christmas mail at the depot for minimum wage._ "

"You're welcome to study computer science as well," Zoe said, well used to her sister's complaints after four years of listening to them. "I wouldn't mind putting my feet up and letting someone else deal with this."

" _All right, all right_ ," she sighed, " _I know I'm complainin' again. It's just been three months._ "

"It's been four years for me," Zoe said, "so my sympathy's somewhat limited."

Rose huffed down the line, and she fell silent for a moment.

" _Where are you anyway_?" She asked. " _It sounds like you're in the middle of a city._ "

"You're not far wrong," Zoe said, quickly stepping out the way of a delivery van that sped too quickly down the street; the strength of displaced air from the hovercraft pushed her until she stumbled. She flipped the driver off and resumed walking. "I'm in a market place on Fluren's World. It's called the Temporal Bazaar."

" _What's that when it's at home then_?"

"It's like a market that sells temporal weapons and artefacts," she explained. "I found it a couple of years back by mistake. Got myself into a spot of bother by confiscating Time Lord technology that had popped up to be sold."

She could hear Rose's frown. " _What kind of Time Lord tech_?"

"Some weapons, a couple of musical instruments, a set of scent-based histories, and a few other oddities."

" _Scent-based histories_?" She asked, bemused.

"You sniff it and you're in the moment of history," Zoe said from experience. "It's not something you want to try. I swear I was unconscious for like a month afterwards and all I got to witness was a really dry political debate about agricultural renovation. One thing I've learned about the Time Lords? They're big on fancy red robes, and they're pretentious gits."

" _We knew that anyway,_ " Rose said, and Zoe coughed on a laugh. " _So all fun an' games for you then?_ "

"Oh, absolutely," she said with just enough sarcasm to make her sister laugh harder.

It was nice to hear it because she did miss her family. The times between visits were growing further and further apart because Zoe wanted to have something to tell them each time she visited.

" _What are you doin' in the market anyway?_ " Rose asked. " _Looking for Christmas presents?"_

"I can do that just as easily in America," she said. "And it's a bazaar, not a market."

" _What's the difference_?" Rose asked before quickly changing her mind. " _Never mind, I don't want to know. Why are you there?_ "

"I'm going to meet a friend," she said. "Well, I say friend. She owes me a favour because I helped her out when some Time Agents were causing some trouble a few months back. I've come to cash in."

" _We lead very different lives_ ," Rose observed with only the smallest hint of jealousy in her voice; she was getting much better at not letting it fill their entire conversation.

"Look, I'll be home in a few days," Zoe said, wiping the sweat from her forehead. "Why don't we go somewhere in TARDIS after Christmas? Just the two of us. We can sip cocktails on the beaches of Drana, or go swimming in the Seychelles. Whatever you want."

There was a minute, hopeful pause. " _You have the time_?"

"Yeah, course, I've got nothing but time," she lied because if all went well then she would be giving Rose the best Christmas present she could in the form of the Doctor and Jack. "Listen, I've got to go, but think about it all right? I'll see you in a couple of days."

" _See you on Saturday_ ," Rose said. " _Love you._ "

"Love you too," Zoe said before hanging up and sliding her phone back into the pockets of her tight trousers.

She ducked into the shade of a kiosk that sold cool bulbs of water, and she bought one. She stood in the muggy shadows and drank the water down as quickly as she could without making herself sick. She always – _always –_ forgot how hot Fluren's World could get and would park the TARDIS far away from the market place for fear of it attracting the attention of the various traders. They were well-informed about what a TARDIS was and she didn't want to have to fight to get it back. It made sense to park far away, but she always forget to dress appropriately for the weather and the skin on the back of her thighs was already burning. She would have to visit the sickbay when she was done.

The heat was due to the fact that the sun was nearly supernova, and the force of the expanding sun was held only in place by a Time Bubble that threatened to break at any time. It was a miracle it hadn't broken already.

She really didn't like visiting Fluren's World but it was the best place in the known universe to find materials, artefacts, and people that were otherwise temporally ambiguous. The Time Agency kept trying to shut it down and confiscate the products on the planet but the sellers were always one step ahead of them and kept laying traps to keep them out. For marketplaces where she could actually have a good time and not feel as though she had sullied herself afterwards; she much preferred Tianaamat and Shan Shen.

Still, Zoe went where she had to and that included The Sunshine Club.

One of the many benefits of the bar/club/restaurant was that the air conditioning never broke down. Zoe could feel the reassuring coolness as she approached the heavily-guarded front doors as there were outlet vents that spilled the excess cool air out of the building. Neon lights flashed above the entrance and a holographic rendering of the sun flickered overhead, hurting the eyes of anyone who looked at it for too long.

A eclectic crowd of beings of varying measures of ill-repute lingered outside the front door, unable to get in due to the strict _no asshole_ policy that the proprietor operated. Zoe made eye contact with a reptilian-like man whose dark, scaly skin glistened under the heat of the sun. His sharp yellow eyes narrowed in recognition, and she felt a slow smile unfurl on her face as his split tongue darted out in a hiss. She didn't know his name but he had tried to steal from her on her first trip to the bazaar and received a broken arm for his trouble. That was years ago now but the memory clearly sat poorly with him as he slipped back into the crowd and out of sight.

"Sissa, you're back," Daven greeted when she walked up to the door with the confidence of someone who knew they were welcome. "How've you been?"

"Keeping busy, tamma," Zoe replied, touching her fingers to his in greeting; the local slang came to her mouth much easier than it had done in the early days. "Is Hoss-lady in?"

"Ki," he nodded, "busy though. You on business?"

"Aren't I always?"

He laughed and scanned her into the building. "Be good. Don't want no more broken tables."

"One time," she grinned as she passed him. "That was one time."

"Memories long at The Sunshine Club," he teased.

She waved a hand over the top of her head, shaking off his words, and chuckled to herself as she stepped inside the club. The cool interior was a welcome change from the arid desert that the Temporal Bazaar was located in. Immediately upon entry, she was offered a tall glass of ice cold water from one of the serving girls. It was one of the small niceties that set Roxx apart from all the other club owners on Fluren's: she knew how to treat her clientele with respect and to keep them coming back for more. She was given a cool, damp cloth to wipe the sweat from her face, neck, and underarms before she was shown through to a private booth in the back of the establishment.

Zoe ordered her usual drink from the interactive table and sat back to wait. Her eyes drifted around the room and took in beings from all over the quadrant doing business that varied in its legality. Roxx didn't worry about the world's authorities since she had enough credits to pay everyone and anyone off. Zoe wouldn't be surprised if most everyone on Fluren's World was in Roxx's pockets. Her drink came over with a handsome, red-skinned woman who looked uncertain and shy when she made eye contact with Zoe. She was clearly new to the establishment, and Zoe hoped that she would be treated well. One of the things she liked least about Roxx was how disposable she found people until she was certain of their loyalty.

She sipped her drink – a colourful concoction called Mythological Sunrise – and focused her eyes on the holo-screen above the main bar. She tapped at her table and drew the feed to the chair opposite her so that she had something to occupy her time with. It was the most popular news channel on the planet and the most biased. People complained about BBC bias in her time and she wished she could show them Fluren's News that lauded the achievements of Yasmin Fluren, the great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter of Anton Fluren who founded the world. Yasmin was the worst kind of dictator: cruel, brilliantly intelligent, cunning, and obscenely wealthy. Her people lived in abject poverty and scrambled for the most meagre of water supplies whilst she lived in a palace with lush green grass and water fountains that flowed all day and all night.

There was a revolution coming, and Zoe hoped she would be there to see it.

"Zoe, sissa, welcome back, ya," Roxx said, emerging from the shadows of the back and stepping away from her bodyguard. "You've been gone too long, my friend."

"Sorry, Roxx, you know how life is," Zoe said, accepting the large, warm, and somewhat uncomfortable embrace: Raxacoricofallapatorians were not built to hug humans with any degree of comfort. "How're tricks?"

"Good, my friend, very good," she said widely, sitting with her and nearly squashing Zoe into a corner. She delicately readjusted herself, and her bangles jangled loudly. "Business is going well. A new shipment of artefacts from the Deathsmiths of Goth have been confiscated by the authorities, and I'm getting a lot of people through my door asking for them."

"The Deathsmiths of Goth?" Zoe repeated slowly, the name unfamiliar to her. "There's a name and a half. Let me guess, weapon makers?"

"You don't get credit for that," Roxx laughed. "The clue is really in the name."

"Well, they sound particularly dreadful," she said, amused before a hint of cautious warning ran through her words. "I do hope you haven't branched out and started trading in weapons though."

"Relax," she said, dragging the word out. One large arm swept her concerns away, but Zoe remained unmoved. "Even I know not to deal with their tech. Besides, the authorities destroyed them straight away. A shame, if you ask me. The historical value alone would be worth more than I could make in a lifetime here."

"My heart bleeds for you," Zoe said disingenuously, and Roxx laughed.

"This is why I like you, sissa," she said. "You say what you think, even if it's rude."

Roxx wasn't someone that Zoe would class as a friend as she was too slippery for that, but Zoe did enjoy her company on occasion and had found her to be an extremely useful source of information when she couldn't find it anywhere else. Her initial experiences with Raxacoricofallapatorians had prejudiced her against Roxx when they first met, but she soon saw how ridiculous she was being by labelling an entire species by the actions of one family.

Roxx was funny, smart, and a hustler of unimaginable talents. She came to Fluren's World by accident when she was a young woman and decided to stay and make her fortune there. She had adopted the habit of wearing clothes, which immediately marked her out as different from the rest of her people, and she worked her way up from a stall holder in the market to the most powerful person in business.

The Sunshine Club was her legitimate enterprise that paid its taxes and had all the appropriate licenses, but she dealt in artefacts on the side: hard to source, nearly mythological artefacts that many thought were lost even to Time. Her main business, the one that Zoe hoped to make use of today, was dealing in information. No one passed in or out of Fluren's World's atmosphere and the surrounding quadrant without Roxx knowing about it, and so Zoe strove to maintain a good relationship with her. It was something she had learned from Jack: good relationships kept doors open for a time when an open door might just be the thing to save lives.

"Perhaps this will help soothe any hurt feelings then," Zoe said, and she slid a small triangular object across the table to her that caught Roxx's large black eyes immediately.

She picked it up with curiosity and turned it over in her hands. "A data processor."

Zoe sipped her drink and twirled her finger. "Check the markings."

Roxx turned it over and drew in a sharp hiss of breath at the distinctive markings on the underside of the piece. She looked up. "Is this authentic?"

"I won it from Sharaz Jek himself in a game of logic," she said, relaxed in her seat with one leg crossed over the other: a picture of relaxation and friendliness. "He was very unhappy to part with it but a bet's a bet, and he paid up...with a little encouragement that is."

"His earlier work, I believe," Roxx murmured to herself, examining it from every angle. "Yes, definitely earlier, definitely. There is some value to this."

"More than some," Zoe said. "Don't think I don't keep an eye on the market, Roxx. There's been an interest in early android creation amongst the historians and archaeologists that frequent the bazaar for some time now. They'd pay a handsome fee for an original Sharaz Jek data processor."

It was difficult to read the facial expressions of a Raxacoricofallapatorian, but Zoe had spent enough time with Roxx over the years to read her well. She was amused and just a little exasperated that she wouldn't get the cheap deal she hoped for.

Roxx set the data processor down on the table between them to start their negotiations. "What's your price then, sissa?"

"You can keep your credits today," Zoe said, reaching into her pocket for a data stick. "It's information I'm after."

"I'm listening," she said. "What is it you want to know?"

"The location of someone very specific," Zoe said. She tapped into the computer system and transferred the data across. She flicked her fingers and brought it up onto the 3D screen between them where a picture of a beautiful woman hovered between them. "This person."

"I know all who pass through the Bazaar," Roxx said after examining the picture, "but I do not recognise her."

"I wouldn't expect you to," she said, "but I do expect you to find her temporal location between these dates."

Dates predating the Time War appeared on the screen, and Roxx's eyes flicked over them.

"Very specific," she murmured. "Perhaps too specific for the price of a data processor."

"We can start the negotiation after you hear everything," Zoe told her. "You haven't asked who she is yet."

Roxx stared at her, considering, before – "who is she?"

Zoe grinned with a gleam in her eyes. "A Time Lord."

* * *

 _Three Weeks Later_

 _Massachusetts, Earth_

"Congratulations, Zoe," Professor Laurent said, brown eyes warm beneath their thick, bushy eyebrows. "Your thesis has been accepted."

Relief sagged through Zoe, and she let out a short, breathless laugh. She took their offered hand and shook it, proud of herself. The other professors rose from their seats to congratulate her, and she tried hard not to beam with pride. Some of the finest minds on Earth were telling her that she had succeeded where a large number of her classmates failed. The class of '43 was twenty-five when Zoe started, there were only nine of them left now. The adulation felt wonderful, and she let herself soak it up, allowing herself to be proud as she would soon brush off her success with the modesty that had been drummed into her as a child. A glass of champagne was offered to her, and she accepted it. The bubbles went straight up her nose, making her sneeze, but she was in such a good mood that she didn't care.

It was three weeks since she had set Roxx the task of tracking down a Time Lord for her, and she had yet to respond. Zoe had tried, yet again, to get the TARDIS to search but the Doctor had locked himself out of the system in an effort to stop himself from interfering in his own personal history. She expected it was done shortly after the War and before he met Rose as the system was a mess. It looked as though he had simply ripped through it with his bare hands. She understood why he did it, but it did create a problem for her in that she needed to find another way to find a Time Lord, and Time Lords weren't easy to locate.

She kept herself busy by studying for her exams and preparing her thesis defence whilst also running check after check on the Delta Wave generator and the programmes she would need to use. Everything was as perfect as it could be, and she was just waiting now.

"So what's next for you?" Professor Gaiten asked, the sun catching her bright red hair and making it look like a burning flame. "I hope you'll consider academia as the next step in your career. A mind like yours might be wasted outside of research."

"That's very kind of you," Zoe said sincerely, "but I'm going home for a time. See my family and my friends."

"Aren't you from one of the outer colonies?" Professor Mor-wapaz asked curiously, remembering her falsified backstory. "I imagine there are all manners of improvements you can make in the deep."

"I hope so," she said. "I would like to use what I've learned here to improve lives throughout the universe, as cliché as that sounds."

"Hear, hear," Professor Bix toasted. "Though I for one hope to see you in our doctoral programme before long. You may not care for academia as a career, but I hope that won't stop you from continuing your education."

"I promise you it won't, professor," Zoe said, amused. "But, you know what they say – all work and no play makes Zoe a very dull woman."

It was a poor joke but they laughed anyway. Her phone vibrated softly against her thigh, and she politely excused herself from the circle to check it. She sipped at her champagne as she swiped her screen open. Her mouth went dry, and her heart skipped a beat. Roxx had finally got back to her with temporal and spatial coordinates, a warning to _be careful_ typed beneath them. The room seemed to narrow in on itself, and her hearing became dulled by the sound of blood rushing through her ears.

 _It was time._

"I'm so sorry," Zoe apologised with a pleasant smile on her face, "but I actually have to go. Something's come up."

"Oh, that's a shame," Professor Laurent said, disappointed. "We were about to whip out the canapés."

"You know how much I hate to miss food," she said to a ripple of amusement, "but I really do have to go." She set her champagne down. "Thank you all so much. I won't ever forget this. I just hope that now I'll pass my exams. I'd hate to fall at the last hurdle."

Warm laughter followed her from the room.

Zoe kept a steady pace down the long corridor, and she waited patiently in the quiet lifts that were powered by solar energy. She smiled at a flustered-looking doctoral student whose mouth trembled in the face of her kindness, too much work making her teeter on the edge of a nervous breakdown. She strolled casually through the entrance area and scanned herself out of the building. A pleasant walk through the beautifully-tended gardens followed until she was out of sight by the main crush of people. She glanced around and saw that no one was paying any attention to her, and she took off at a run.

The TARDIS was waiting for her, and she burst in through the front doors triumphantly.

"I've got the coordinates!" She exclaimed, breathless with excitement and from her run. "Roxx has tracked her down. Never, _never_ , let it be said that Raxacoricofallapatorians are useless. They are not! They're brilliant and wonderful!"

She was rambling, but she didn't care.

"Here," Zoe said, carefully keying in the coordinates though her fingers were shaking from the burst of adrenaline rocketing through her system. "Show me where and when that is, please."

She wiped a hand across her mouth and stood on one foot, her other tucked behind her knee, as she watched the information fill the screen. Rayal – a hollowed out meteorite that was home of the notorious loan shark Jim the Fish, head of the Goya crime family and dealt in trade of all sorts of nefarious endeavours that he siphoned through his legal casinos that laundered the money for him. She had no idea why a Time Lord would choose to visit Rayal as, from what she understood of the Doctor's people, they were a stiff, pretentious lot who would rather send someone else to Rayal than go themselves. Not that it mattered. Zoe was just glad that she had a temporal and spatial fix on a friendly Time Lord.

"Okay, good, _finally,_ " Zoe said, staring at the screen. "No time like the present, right? I should change first though. It'd be weird to do this in a suit and heels."

She stripped off in her bedroom, throwing the clothes onto her bed before dressing in what passed for her usual outfit of tight black jeans and a T-shirt. She stood before her mirror and braided her hair back to keep it from her eyes whilst simultaneously psyching herself up for what was coming.

It wasn't going to be the most difficult part of the plan, but it was certainly the most dangerous.

"You've got this," Zoe said to her reflection, her fingers working to keep her curls out of her face. "This might be the most dangerous thing you've ever done but it's not the hardest. You are smart and – to be honest – there literally is no other way. So, you know, chin up, shoulders back, and try not to die."

She flashed herself a smile but even her reflection look doubtful. She tied off her hair and pointed at herself. "Shut up."

Zoe stopped off in the kitchen to eat something quickly. Her metabolism had evened off once she got better though she did require more calories than an average human woman of her age, so she made sure to eat at least six times a day and to always take a snack with her. She quickly polished off the lasagna that was left over from a few days ago, eating it straight from the fridge before she left the bowl in the sink to wash later. One large glass of water later, she was striding into console room, ready to go even if part of her mind was telling her to not be so stupid.

She clapped her hands together, rubbing them, as she approached the console.

"Okay, honey," Zoe said to the TARDIS. "Let's do this."

Over the last four years, Zoe had got quite good at flying the TARDIS. She was by no means perfect and sometimes it took her all day to get to where she wanted to go because she missed one step or another, but she was capable. It made her appreciate the fact that nine times out of ten the Doctor got them to where they wanted to go. He had better odds that she did, but she wasn't too bad. It helped when the TARDIS was helping her as well. As it was, she was doing everything in her not-inconsiderable power to stop Zoe from reaching Rayal.

The TARDIS sent them into a black hole, and then a firestorm, and finally a tsunami before Zoe wrestled control from her and landed them where they were supposed to be. She breathed out heavily and glared up at the TARDIS who responded by sending a small electrical current through Zoe's fingers and up her arms. She pulled back with a grunt, anger flaring within her. She opened her mouth to snap at the ship but managed to stop herself in time. It was only because the TARDIS was worried about her.

"I'll be fine," Zoe said to the quiet Time Rotor. "Or I'll do my best to stay fine. That's a promise I know I can keep."

The sound of the front door locking echoed through the room.

"Please don't be like that," she requested quietly. "I know you're worried about me, and I know you think this is a bad idea, but you and I both know that this is the best chance that _I_ have of getting our boys back. Maybe someone else could think up a less dangerous idea, but this is all I've got. So...support me. _Please_."

Reluctantly, a warm presence spread through her mind that triggered tears to pool in her eyes. She smiled gratefully

"Okay," she said, wiping at her eyes. "I've set the timer for seven Earth days. If I'm not back by then, then I won't be back at all. The auto-pilot will kick in and take you back to London, I hope. I've tried my best to make sure you end up in Britain, but I'm sure someone will find you. If the Doctor ever makes it off the Game Station make sure you show him my hologram, please?"

Zoe patted the TARDIS gently and lowered her voice to a whisper that cracked on her fear and emotion. "Thanks for everything."

The door opened easily when she pulled at it, and she stepped outside. She was in a cargo hold with minimal security. She looked back into the TARDIS and seared the sight of her into her memory before she closed the door behind her. Her fingers left the handle, and she stepped away from her home and her only true constant over the last four years. With a deep breath to firm up what she could of her courage, she left the cargo hold in search of the Blue Parrot nightclub.

Roxx was very thorough: not only had she delivered the temporal and spatial coordinates but she had narrowed down a time frame for her as well.

Rayal was a fascinating place. The entire meteor had been hollowed out during the mining surge a few centuries earlier when local inhabitants of the sector were seeking new sources of energy to power their ever-growing population. Instead of letting the emptied out meteors go to waste, enterprising companies bought up multiple husks to turn into casinos, strip clubs, brothels, and various other dens of inequities for sex and gambling was the main source of income on Rayal. It was not a place for honest people to make a living she decided as she moved away the brightly coloured prostitutes that emerged from the shadows when she walked by.

According to the guidebook that the TARDIS downloaded onto her phone, the Blue Parrot was the place to get the best Asturiax Sunrise - a cocktail that made the Blue Parrot famous. Zoe thought she could try the cocktail whilst looking for the Time Lord she wanted.

She was getting better at mixing business with pleasure.

Zoe walked through the metal corridors that stunk of sweat, sex, and alcohol and followed the sound of the music to the Blue Parrot. It wasn't hard to find. It took up three entire levels of the meteor; large LED lights pulsed and a comically large parrot opened its mouth and squawked. There were two Judoon bouncers at the entrance. She swept inside before they could think to question her, more than accustomed to talking her way into places that she wasn't supposed to be. A little of Jack's confidence, a sprinkling of the Doctor's arrogance, and a dash of Rose's determination all swirled within her, and the guards barely glanced at her as she entered.

The music and heat hit her all at once. She much preferred The Sunshine Club. At least she could hear herself think there. The inside of the Blue Parrot was like the worst of every London nightclub with people pressed together, slick skin sliding against each other, and drinks flowing freely. She turned her eyes away from two people fucking each other against the wall, tentacles wrapping around limbs, and she scanned the crowd.

"Pretty lady -" a slimy voice said at her side and she looked down. A small being – she couldn't tell if it had a gender – was at her side. Glowing blue eyes, a telltale sign of drug abuse on the meteor, looked up at her and saliva pooled on its fleshy lips. Disgust coiled in her stomach. "Looking for some fun?"

"I'm looking for someone," Zoe said coolly. "And I require no assistance, thank you."

She walked into the crowd before her pockets could be picked.

She kept to the edge of the room and slowly moved around it. Her eyes carefully looked into everyone's faces before dropping to focus on their forearms. Hands reached out to her to pull her onto the dance floor, but she steered clear of them. She was certain she got the day right, but there was every possibility that she was too early or even too late; it was hard to tell. She was about to give up and go speak to the bartender when a flash of something caught the corner of her eye. The room shifted when she turned on her heel and watched as a tall, ethereally pale woman left the bathroom with very little clothing covering her Amazonian physique. Zoe felt a rush of attraction towards her as she was objectively incredibly beautiful, and Zoe had a weakness for blonde women. Her necklace caught her eye, drawing her attention to the swell of her breasts, before her eyes dropped further.

"Bingo," she said, certainty slowly seeping through her.

Zoe pushed her way through the crowd and kept her eye on the woman. She darted between undulating couples and groups and nearly lost her footing in a puddle of lube that dripped to the floor from those using it. She lost sight of the woman for a second before she reappeared ascending the floating staircase. Zoe broke free of the crowd and jumped onto the bottom step and walked quickly up them.

The upper area of the club was less crowded and more private. It seemed the ideal location for those who wanted to have sex in relative privacy but also didn't want the bother of finding a room. She cast her eyes over the moaning couples before moving into the darkness. In the corner with a drink in front of her and mercifully no company was the Time Lord Zoe was looking for. It had taken her weeks to find a Time Lord she could contact that was both moderately friendly and lacked the risk of crossing too many time streams or breaking any Time Locks, so she couldn't put a step wrong in her approach.

The Time Lord's dark eyes flicked up at Zoe's approach and moved over her with obvious interest. Zoe wasn't exactly dressed for the nightclub.

"That's far enough," she said, and Zoe stopped. "Who are you?"

"My name's Zoe Tyler," she replied, "and I need your help."

"Sorry, human, I'm a Time Lord," she said. "We have a strict policy of non-interference in the affairs of lesser beings."

"My experience is that Time Lords do nothing _but_ interfere."

Her face dropped. "You know the Doctor."

"I know the Doctor," Zoe confirmed. "And he's told me about you. You're friends...more or less."

"Sometimes less, sometimes more," she shrugged. "How did you know I'm the woman you're looking for? Us Time Lords aren't really fixed on one appearance like you apes."

"Okay, firstly, that's speciest," Zoe began. "And secondly, if you don't want people to recognise you then maybe don't have the same tattoo in each regeneration."

The Corsair looked down at the coiled snake on her arm and grinned.

"Fair point," she said. "What do you want?"

"I need your help," Zoe said. "To save the Doctor."

The Corsair's eyes rolled up into the back of her head. "Rassilon be damned, what's that damned fool got himself into this time?"

"Trapped on a space station with a fleet of Daleks about to annihilate all humankind," she said simply; the Corsair snorted and pushed a chair out to her. Zoe sat down and felt like a child in the headteacher's office. "I need your help to get a delta wave emission from a Dalek brain."

"Part of me wants to ask why," she began, "but another part of me really doesn't want to know why you'd even think about attempting something so foolish."

Zoe laughed. "If you think this is the foolish part, you just wait."

"I can see why the Doctor likes you," she said, mouth twitching. "Why a delta wave? And why from a Dalek?"

"Because I've built a Delta Wave generator to fry the Daleks, but I'd rather not kill billions of humans at the same time," Zoe explained. "Consider not committing genocide a quirk of mine."

Her eyes gleamed delightedly. "Sassy little thing, aren't you?"

"Too much time around the Doctor," she said. "I used to be quite nice."

"He does have that effect on humans," the Corsair mused. "I've got a lot of questions, including how you were able to track me down –"

"I have a TARDIS," Zoe answered, unwilling to throw Roxx into the path of a curious and potentially offended Time Lord. "The Doctor's TARDIS. It wasn't really that hard."

"He doesn't even have his TARDIS?" She asked, faintly exasperated. "Of course he doesn't. How are you flying it?"

"Well on some days, not so well on others."

"Got an answer for everything, haven't you?"

"One of my many failings, I'm sure," Zoe said easily. "But to answer another of your questions that I'm sure you're about to ask, I can't take the TARDIS where I need to go because there's a Time Lock in place. I'm dipping into the Doctor's timeline here, and, yes, I know that's dangerous but needs must."

"So you can't take his TARDIS to where you need to go because something has happened that prevents him travelling there?" The Corsair summed up. Zoe nodded. "So you tracked me down instead."

"Yep."

"Why me?"

"Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to ask _the Master_ for help now, was I?"

The Corsair laughed. "At least you have a bit of sense in that tiny human brain of yours."

Zoe let the half-insult slide off her.

"Also, from what the Doctor's told me about you," she said, "I think you're the only one crazy enough to do it without contacting the High Council first."

"I like you," the Corsair decided once she stopped laughing. "What's your name again?"

Something eased inside of her at having passed the first hurdle. "Zoe Tyler."

"Zoe Tyler," she rolled her name around in her mouth. "All right, Zoe Tyler, you've got me interested. What is it you need me to do? Be specific now."

The Corsair leaned back in her chair and waited. Zoe held her eyes.

"I need you to take me to Skaro."


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

It took an annoyingly long time to get the Corsair to agree to her plan as it was rightly pointed out to her that it was a suicide mission and no one of any passing intelligence should want any part in it. She said such things in significantly stronger terms that made Zoe feel as though she was being told off by her mother, but she persevered and worked her hardest to put a convincing case on the table. Zoe had anticipated such resistance because the Corsair was right, it was suicidal and ridiculous, so she came to their meeting prepared with thoughtful, logical arguments that took care to stay away from sentimentality; as a general rule, Time Lords were not given to emotional persuasion. Eventually, three drinks and a plate of fresh _kifka_ later, the Corsair agreed to take her to Skaro. Having expected stronger resistance, Zoe stared at her and let her surprise slip through.

"Really?" She asked, disbelievingly, before catching herself. "I mean, great. Thank you."

She was one step closer to the Game Station.

The Corsair looked at her with dark, troubled eyes. She wasn't happy about the idea but Zoe made compelling arguments in favour of it, and her own mind ticked over at the thought of the information she could obtain for her own people. She drummed her fingers against her thigh, shifting patterns and plans filling her mind. The Daleks were up to something. Everyone in the Citadel knew it, but no one was exactly sure _what_ they were up to. The news that the Doctor's TARDIS was incapable of taking Zoe to Skaro was troubling. She couldn't think as to why that would be the case; though, it was easy enough to imagine a multitude of horrible scenarios. She doubted Zoe knew it, but she had just given the Corsair the perfect opportunity to conduct a reconnaissance mission that would, hopefully, benefit Gallifrey.

"I have business I need to finish here," the Corsair said finally. "You can wait here or come with me, so long as you promise to keep your mouth shut."

"I'll come with you," Zoe said, reluctant to let her out of her sight just in case she changed her mind. "What's your business?"

"Absolutely none of yours," she replied, and Zoe grinned, holding up her hands. She finished her drink and stood up. "Come."

Zoe watched her leave before rising from her seat to follow her. The Corsair was brusque and seemed to have little patience for her, but none of that mattered to Zoe. As long as she got to Skaro and then off again, she would put up with all manner of rudeness and condescension. She kept her locked eyes on the Corsair and followed her through the crowd, skirting the edge of the heated, moving flesh that had increased in speed during the time that they had been talking, and she picked up her pace to make sure that she was shown into the back room along with the Corsair.

The guard, human by the looks of him, looked Zoe up and down. "Who's this?"

"My pet," the Corsair said, and Zoe's jaw tightened before she deliberately relaxed it and smiled as pleasantly as she could. "Humans make such good playthings."

"I need to check her," the man said, and the Corsair gave a permitting nod without looking at Zoe.

She rolled her eyes and lifted her arms to suffer through an unnecessarily intimate pat-down, wondering what the Corsair would have done if Zoe was found to have been carrying a weapon, before she was cleared to pass through the wide doors. She lifted her eyebrows at the Corsair who just smirked and swept forwards, leaving Zoe to roll her eyes after her. They were shown into a large aquarium, which wasn't at all what Zoe was expecting . Surprise flashed across her face, and she quickly had to reorient her expectations of what was to come. There was enough space for people to move in front of the tank with chairs and a desk, but it was an odd setup. The Corsair moved forwards and dropped into a seat with seamless grace; Zoe took the seat next to her and wanted to ask questions about who they were seeing and why there was such an encompassing aquarium, but she was able to keep her mouth pressed firmly together.

The Corsair didn't encourage the same sort of questions that the Doctor welcomed.

They weren't kept waiting long when something appeared in the water before them. It took a few moments for Zoe's mind to make sense of what she was seeing. It was a man, at least she thought it was; it had a man's body with two legs, a chest, and two arms, but it had the head of a shark. Her mouth dropped open as she watched it swim before them. She considered that it was a mask, but there was no seam along the neck where human flesh met shark flesh; it just blended perfectly together.

"What the –?" Zoe muttered to herself before being silenced by a sharp look from the Corsair.

" _Corsair, what a pleasure_ ," the shark man said, bubbles rising from his gills. The words appeared on the glass before them. " _To be visited by a Time Lord is an honour indeed. I wouldn't have thought my establishment would be of interesting to a child of Gallifrey._ "

"Jim," the Corsair greeted dryly. "There's no honour in my visit: only business."

Jim the Fish, Zoe's mind supplied. She shifted uncomfortably at the realisation she was in the heart of mafia territory with nothing but an ambivalent Time Lord between her and whatever weapons they carried.

" _She is not one of mine, but I'd be happy to purchase her from you for a fair price,_ " he said and turned his body to nod at Zoe who grasped what he was implying immediately and resisted the urge to kick out at the glass.

"She's not for sale."

"She can speak for herself," Zoe said, unable and unwilling to stay silent any longer. "Pleasure to meet you, Jim. My name's Zoe Tyler. It'd do you well to remember that."

Jim looked at her curiously. _"Human?"_

"She's not important," the Corsair said with a look of controlled fury in her eyes that she threw at Zoe. "My business doesn't concern her."

" _Then what is it that I can do for a member of the most illustrious Time Lords?_ "

"You can tell me why an artron leash passed through this establishment some days ago," the Corsair said without preamble.

Jim just stared at her, not blinking. It was deeply unsettling.

" _An artron leash_?"

"Don't play dumb, Jim," she chastised sharply, and the air in the room tightened. "Do you think Gallifrey doesn't keep a close eye on its technology?"

" _Clearly not a close enough eye if something has gone missing_ ," Jim said with a bravery that Zoe felt was misplaced.

"Give me the artron leash, and I'll let you keep your life," the Corsair said, voice cold with threat. Zoe passed her fingers across her mouth, wanting to speak but also not willing to draw the Corsair's ire to her. She wasn't at all like the Doctor and that made her hesitant. "Continue with this play at ignorance and you will feel the might of Gallifrey."

Zoe kept her eyes on Jim, wondering what he would do. The air in the room crackled with tension. She was acutely aware of the guards at her back with their weapons, and it made her nervous. She wanted to face the room, but she also didn't want to move. The silence stretched for a long time, but the Corsair didn't waver. She held Jim's gaze steadily, and the man bent beneath the weight of her authority. He lifted an arm and gestured. There was a sound of movement behind her that made the breath catch in Zoe's throat. She expected to be shot in the back of the head and was relieved when a small box was handed to the Corsair, who cracked it open and looked inside.

"Good," she said. The lid snapped shut. "This is your only warning. If any technology from my people finds their way into your hands again, you will activate this." She flicked a small, circular device to one of his guards. "If you don't, I'll wipe you out of existence. Do you understand?"

Jim's chest expanded and his gills fluttered. " _Perfectly_."

"Excellent." She smiled with no warmth. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Human, let's go."

"I have a name," Zoe hissed at her back, hurrying to keep up, not wanting to be left alone in a room full of a humiliated mafia boss. "What the hell was that about?"

"I told you to be quiet," she said, voice sharp and cutting. "Not to draw attention to yourself."

"Forgive me if I don't enjoy being passed off as your prostitute," Zoe shot back before she realised that it would be very easy for the Corsair to simply walk away from her. Before she had to resort to begging, she pulled back on her tone and forced an apology from between her lips, resenting every word. "But I apologise. Now, please, what was that about in there?"

"I'm sure you can put two and two together," the Corsair said. "He had technology that didn't belong to him. I got it back."

"By threatening to wipe him out of existence?" She said, heat rising in her voice again. It had been a long time since she had to answer to anyone else or make room for them in her travels and it showed in her voice. "I know how Time Lords work, and I can read between the lines. You weren't threatening to kill him, you were threatening to erase him from the time lines."

"See," the Corsair said over her shoulder, "you do have some brains in your head."

"Corsair –" Zoe reached out and grabbed her arm, which was a mistake.

The dance floor twisted in her vision, and the breath was knocked from her lungs when she was slammed into a wall. Her vision went black with the pain. When it cleared, the Corsair's face was so close to hers that the tips of their noses brushed. Her shirt was clenched in a fist and panic pulsed through Zoe. She had two years of Krav Maga under her belt, but Time Lords were significantly stronger than humans would ever be. The fight was lost before it even started. If the Corsair wanted to snap her neck, there was nothing Zoe could do to stop it. Instead of trying to get away, she raised her hands from her sides and splayed her palms wide to show she meant to harm.

"I'm sorry," she apologised with deliberate calm. "I shouldn't have grabbed you."

"You shouldn't have," the Corsair agreed, eyes like flint. "The Doctor may enjoy a more casual acquaintance with humans, but I don't."

"Duly noted," Zoe nodded. "No touching."

The Corsair released her abruptly and continued on her path out of the Blue Parrot. Zoe sucked in a deep lungful of air and swore to herself. She rubbed at her face with both hands and pushed through her desire to run and hide in the TARDIS. She hurried after the Corsair and took extra care to keep some distance between them so that she didn't accidentally brush up against her. She knew better than to use the Doctor as a benchmark for what was normal amongst his people, but she did wonder if the aversion to physical contact was a Time Lord thing or something that the Corsair personally disliked. Either way, she wouldn't make the mistake of touching the Corsair again unless she had to, and she forced herself to keep at the front of the mind that the Corsair wasn't the Doctor and wouldn't have any qualms about leaving her stranded or in trouble if she didn't mind her tone.

She hated the deference she had to pay, but she would pay it to make sure that the Doctor and Jack came home.

With that thought in mind, she swallowed back her feelings and followed the Corsair out of the club by threading their way through the dancers. Zoe shook her head to try and clear her hearing as soon as they stepped outside. The sudden transition from noise that she felt deep in her bones to the a dull, thudding silence in the main street was disconcerting. She felt as though she'd been plunged underwater. Her ears were clogged, and she dug a finger into one and jiggled it around whilst following the Corsair down through the corridors at a brisk pace.

"So that was Jim the Fish?" Zoe said to fill the tense silence between them and to try and ease them back away from the precipice she had brought them them.

The Corsair barely glanced at her. "You know him?"

"I've heard of him," she admitted. "He does some business with a friend of sorts on Fluren's World. I didn't actually expect him to be a, y'know, _fish_."

The Corsair's mouth turned up. "Why did you think he's called Jim the Fish?"

"I assumed it was to do with his loan shark ways."

"Why wouldn't he be called Jim the Shark then?"

"I don't know," Zoe said with exasperation. "Why isn't he called Jim the Shark now? He has a shark's head."

"I suppose it looks that way to you," the Corsair said, and before Zoe could process that remark, she changed the subject. "Where did you park the Doctor's TARDIS?"

"The storage facility," she said, stretching her jaw to make her ears pop. They did with a satisfying _ring._ "Figured if I was gone for a while then no one would think twice about a strange box in the storage areas."

The Corsair nodded. "Is it still a police box?"

"Yeah."

"Honestly." She rolled her eyes. "It's not difficult to fix a Chameleon Circuit."

Zoe felt the urge to defend the Doctor. "I think he just likes the police box."

The Corsair's TARDIS was tucked away behind a number of overflowing bins between a brothel that reeked of sex even from the outside and a kebab shop that looked really good. Zoe eyed it and decided that if she made it back from Skaro, she would stop in and get one for her lunch. She followed the Corsair into the alley and looked around for the TARDIS, uncertain of what another one would look like. She couldn't find it through the perception filter despite her experience. The Corsair watched her with the air of a scientist watching a subject attempt to complete a puzzle. It grated against Zoe's already frayed nerves, but before she could do something stupid the Corsair cleared her throat pointedly and lifted the lid on the only bin that didn't have rubbish spilling out of it. Familiar light and the comforting hum of a TARDIS engine pulsed outwards. She had never seen a Chameleon Circuit in proper use before and was duly impressed. The Corsair held the lid open for her, and she managed to climb inside as gracefully as possible.

Zoe entered the TARDIS and looked around with open curiosity as the Corsair moved past her and disappeared to change into clothes that covered more than the bare essentials, calling over her shoulder not to touch anything.

Zoe thought that the console room in the Doctor's TARDIS was standard for all TARDISes but the Corsair's was a nice, functional white that made it appear larger – computer screens lined the wall in one corner, and the central panel in the centre of the room was smaller and more functional than the one she was used to. She approached it curiously, tucking her hands into her pockets so that she resisted the urge to touch, and confusion fell over her. She wasn't familiar with the buttons and controls. They were out of place and looked different to what she was used to. She couldn't even the find the on switch.

"I like your TARDIS," Zoe said when the Corsair returned wearing trousers, boots, and a black T-shirt. "I didn't realise that console rooms could be different."

"This is the default setting," she explained, tying her long, pale hair up into a ponytail. It cascaded down her back like a waterfall. "The Doctor doesn't still have the leopard print does he?"

Zoe looked disgusted. "Leopard print?"

"I'll take that for a no," she laughed. "He's always had awful taste."

"I've seen pictures of some of his outfits," Zoe nodded, trying to imagine leopard print in the TARDIS. "The celery was an interesting choice."

The Corsair laughed again, surprising her.

"Tell me more about how you plan to get this delta wave," she asked, leaning against the console with arms folded across her chest.

"Right, yeah," Zoe said, retrieving her phone from her pocket. "I've re-jigged my phone to store the delta wave when I get it. The main problem I'm going to have will be in opening the outer casing to get at the Dalek inside. I've only seen the casing removed once, but the Dalek did that itself. I've written a malware code that I'm hoping will, when I feed the code into it, trick the system into opening. Of course this is all hypothetical; I haven't actually been able to test it outside of simulations, and most of the information on the Daleks is in Gallifreyan which I'm really only a beginner at – "

"You speak Gallifreyan?" She interrupted sharply.

"God, no," Zoe said with a faint laugh at how ludicrous the idea was. "I wouldn't even know where to begin. I can read a little bit of it, but that's mainly the TARDIS instruction manual, which has pictures."

The Corsair relaxed slightly.

"Give me your phone," she gestured, and Zoe passed it over. She examined the malware code closely and made a sound in her throat that could pass for impressed if it was someone else. "This might work. How have you accounted for the organic matter transfer?"

Daleks were more machine than organic. They used their organic matter to control the machine that surrounded their organic parts, but a lot of the processes were run through a computer programme that they controlled with their neural network, so Zoe had to figure out a way to disable the organic interfaces as well as the mechanical ones.

"Nanites," Zoe said. "I have a vial that I'm going to inject directly into the Dalek. They're preprogrammed and ready to go. The malware is for the mechanics, and the nanites are for the fleshy bits."

"You've been thorough."

"My friends' lives are on the line," she said seriously. "Of course I've been thorough."

"Nothing like this has actually been done before though," the Corsair slid the phone back to Zoe. "You could still die a horrible death, because they won't kill you outright. They'll want to know what you're doing on Skaro and how you got there. Dalek torture is... _unpleasant_."

"Well...yeah," she nodded, off-balance. "I suppose I could die or be horribly tortured, but what's my alternative? Not doing anything? Letting the Doctor and Jack die because I might die? No. That's not a choice; not for me. They'd do the same for me without hesitation."

"Humans." The Corsair shook her head. "You're a strange species."

"I could say the same for Time Lords."

"Perhaps," she mused. "Still, you don't appear to be like the rest of the Doctor's friends."

"I'm sorry?"

"He likes to play with humans," she explained, and Zoe questioned her take on the matter because the Doctor loved his friends. He never saw them as something to play with. "I don't see the attraction myself, no offence -"

"None taken."

"But the humans he normally travels with are more...awe struck by him," she said. "You don't seem awestruck."

Zoe considered her take on the matter. Rose and Jack and the various people they had met on their travels all seemed to fall under his spell; she did the same when she had first met him and that awful business of Rose's disapperance and Downing Street had been taken care of. Perhaps if he had brought Rose back on time, things would have been different between them. She might have leapt at the chance to travel with him, unburdened by worry about Jackie and her future, caught up in the web of amazement and delight that he weaved. Yet things hadn't unfolded like that, and she saw the man before she saw the Time Lord. He was the most remarkable man she had ever met, but he was still just a man to her with the same mistakes and foibles that most had.

"No, I suppose not," Zoe said thoughtfully. "He's always just been a friend. He's still remarkable –"

"Perhaps by human standards," the Corsair said, and Zoe couldn't help but grin.

"I would love to hear whatever stories you have about him if I survive this," she said honestly, and the Corsair snorted.

"You know what your odds of survival are?"

"I really don't want to know," she said. "Let me naively optimistic, please."

"Now there's a trait common to his human friends," the Corsair said, pushing away from the console. " _Naively optimistic_."

"Maybe that's just a human trait," Zoe argued. "And have you actually met any of the Doctor's other human friends?"

"Once," she said. "At one of his trials."

 _One of his trials_? Zoe thought, bewildered. She knew that he'd had some brushes with the law on Gallifrey, but nothing to the level of actually having trials in the _plural_.

"I forget her name," the Corsair continued, moving around the console to set it into flight. "Lots of red hair, high pitched voice." Her sharp eyes settled on her. "You're a marked improvement."

"Thanks. I think," Zoe said uncertainly, and she cleared her throat. "So you're still going to help me then?"

"I suppose I do owe the Doctor a favour," the Corsair replied, and Zoe did not want to know the circumstances behind that. "This seems a good way to pay that debt off. I do think you're completely insane though. Messing around with the Daleks is not a good idea, and there is a high probability that you'll die, but yes, I'll help you."

Zoe blinked at such a lacklustre pledge of assistance, but she couldn't be picky in her current situation.

"Good, excellent, I think," she said, arms moving by her side as she wasn't sure what to do with them. "Shall we get going then?"

"In a hurry?"

"I want this over with as soon as possible," Zoe admitted. "I've been living with this for a long time now."

"Fair enough," the Corsair replied. "I assume you know how to fly a TARDIS?"

"Of course."

"Then if you could take the other position," she said, "this will go much smoother."

"Let me correct myself," Zoe said awkwardly. "I can fly the Doctor's TARDIS but I don't recognise this console at all. Everything's out of place here."

The Corsair didn't give her an opportunity to move out of the way as she moved quickly to close the distance. Her fingers tapped against the side of Zoe's temple, and her vision swam before the console suddenly made sense to her. It didn't occur to her to protest against the assault on her mental autonomy. She was just pleased that she could understand the console before her. She positioned herself at the secondary pilot station and followed the Corsair's lead, flying in tandem with her.

It was a strange experience to fly with someone else. The Doctor generally liked to fly alone, and she had only ever flown the TARDIS by herself. It was a very intuitive process that she kept slipping on, unable to move as quickly as the Corsair, but the TARDIS got into her mind and helped her predict the Time Lord's actions so that she could make the correct alterations and perform the appropriate actions at the right time. They twisted through the Time Vortex smoothly, and the Corsair input the coordinates for Skaro. It seemed that the TARDIS didn't want to go there judging by how it vibrated around them, but it was less ornery than her TARDIS – or at least less inclined to go against its pilot so openly.

"Activate the Exo-Chronoplasmic Shell," the Corsair ordered, and Zoe's hands leapt to do just that.

They were landing in Dalek territory, which meant the TARDIS needed every protection they could give it.

"Activated."

"Okay," the Corsair said seriously when they were spat unceremoniously out of the Time Vortex. "We're in orbit of Skaro. We're currently a few seconds out of sync so they can't detect us. This is your last chance to change your mind."

Zoe peered around the corner of a computer screen. "I've spent four years of my life planning for this. I'm not about to change my mind now."

The Corsair hesitated. "Very well."

Zoe kept her eyes fixed on the screen as Skaro loomed ever closer in the monitor. From orbit, it looked like a bloodier Mars. The reddish haze of the atmosphere was darker than that of Mars, and her breath hitched in her chest as they passed through the atmosphere, and the red colour gave way to oranges and greys. The TARDIS settled quietly on grey, dusty ground in a small dip in a barren valley where an outcrop of rocks worked to conceal it. Seamlessly, the TARDIS blended into its surroundings.

"There we go," the Corsair said into the silence. "Skaro, as requested."

"Thank you," Zoe said quietly, nerves exploding throughout her like a thousand fluttering butterflies trying to escape her stomach. "Okay. Right."

The Corsair raised an eyebrow.

"Give me a second," she requested, raising a hand to forestall speech. "I'm a little nervous. There are Daleks out there."

"Obviously," the Corsair said dryly. "Wait here."

She frowned. "Where are you going?"

"Just wait here, human."

"I have a name!" Zoe called after her, irritation chasing away her nerves temporarily.

They soon returned with full force as she stared out onto the planet behind the screen.

 _Skaro._

She closed her eyes. The TARDIS was right – it was a stupid idea. Maybe she should have stayed on the TARDIS. They could have figured something out. Immediately, she dismissed that notion because they had tried. Weeks and moths spent trawling through database and the archives and the weird lab that the Doctor clearly no longer used but once did only to find nothing that could be of any help. She had considered synthesising a delta wave but even the slight possibility that it wouldn't work was too much of a risk for her to take. She needed it to work the first time as she wouldn't get a second attempt.

If she died, the TARDIS was going to be unbearable.

The Corsair returned carrying something in her hand. Zoe didn't get a chance to question what it was because her arm moved quickly and a bite of pain licked at her neck. She clapped a hand to the spot and gaped at the Time Lord.

"Ow!"

"Better ow than dead," the Corsair said as Zoe rubbed her neck with a frown. She waggled the hypospray in front of her eyes. "Skaro is still a radioactive wasteland. Not as bad as it used to be but your puny human repository system might just melt if you breathe it in too much."

"I'd already given myself an injection!"

"Better safe than sorry, human."

"Zoe," she said pointedly. " _Zo-e_."

"I don't care," the Corsair replied, tossing her another object that she fumbled to catch.

She looked down at it. "What's this?"

"It's a gun," the Corsair said as though she was speaking to a particularly stupid child. "It's got Alpha Mezon bursts in it. Aim for the eyestalk. Kills them dead."

"The aim is not to kill a Dalek."

"Look, I know that the Doctor has this whole free-loving, life is precious, don't use weapons philosophy," the Corsair said derisively, and Zoe was filled with the urge to laugh. "But you're about to walk onto a planet that is filled with the deadliest creatures in all of creation, and if you want to survive to save the Doctor and your friend then you need something other than your good intentions to protect you. Understood?"

"Understood," Zoe said because it actually made sense, though she held the gun as though it was on fire. "But I should probably tell you then that I've never shot a gun in my life. Not even a water pistol. I can probably look threatening with one but I might end up shooting myself by mistake."

"Don't point the gun at yourself. Why would you even do that?" She replied, taking the gun from her and crouched in front of her. She wrapped a holster around her thigh, and Zoe's mouth went dry at her close proximity, reminding her of how long it had been since she'd shared her personal space with another person. "There. You look positively threatening. For a human."

"You really don't need to keep tacking that onto the end," Zoe said with a sigh, watching as she strapped on her own holster and slotted a gun into it. "What are you doing?"

"I'm definitely not going out there without a gun," she said. "Especially when I know how to use it."

"You're coming with me?" Zoe asked in surprise and a hint of suspicion. "Based on our short time together that seems unusually nice of you."

"It's not for you," the Corsair replied. "I'm coming because this is too good of an opportunity to miss for a little reconnaissance. My government believes that the Daleks are planning something, but they have no proof. I'm going to find it."

Zoe was close to the beginning of the Time War then. She didn't know how she felt about it and pushed her foreknowledge firmly out of her mind for fear she might let something damaging to the timelines slip.

"Okay," she said when she found her voice again. "But getting the Delta Wave is the priority here. Please don't do anything that puts that at risk."

The Corsair raised an eyebrow. "You are aware that you're talking to a Time Lord, correct?"

"Your gigantic ego and lack of manners have made it impossible to forget," Zoe shot back, forgetting herself for a moment, but the Corsair didn't appear offended. "Shall we?"

"After you," she said, sweeping her arm out in front of her, and Zoe rolled her eyes.

She stepped out onto the surface of Skaro.

It was a wasteland.

In preparation for her trip to Daleks' home world, Zoe had read through most of the relevant information about the planet in the TARDIS database that wasn't written in Gallifreyan. It was once a beautiful green planet with flora and fauna unique to the Seventh Galaxy, but after the civil war between the Kaleds and the Thals the planet had been burned away by the radioactive fallout of it; it was nearly the end for the planet. For thousands of years it was inhabited by hordes of mutated creatures, the likes of which she had once seen in Van Statten's bunker twelve years earlier, until Davros returned to create the Daleks from the wasted remains of his people. Now the planet's single continent still looked like a wasteland but huge buildings rose up out of the ground in the distance and statues of Daleks littered the area.

Fortunately, the Corsair had landed them on the distant outskirts of a city instead of right in the centre of what passed for Dalek civilisation.

Zoe was glad that she had. Even from where they landed, the TARDIS blending into the surroundings as a collection of fallen rocks, she could see Daleks moving through the air like lines of cars and fear twisted tightly inside of her. She remembered Van Statten's bunker. She remembered World War Two. She knew the devastation they would soon wreak throughout the universe and on Gallifrey in the last, bloodiest days of the War. She was terrified and her palms grew clammy. The Corsair was less buoyant as well; her shoulders were straighter and the length of her spine tightened as she looked ahead of them.

"We have about an hour before they realise that something landed on their planet that shouldn't be here," the Corsair told her, her voice was low and serious. "We need to move quickly."

"Agreed," Zoe said, pulling out her phone. She activated the scanner and turned her body 360 degrees until she pointed towards the south west. "That way. There's a smaller concentration of Daleks over there. Hopefully we can skim one away from the crowd."

The Corsair gave another sweeping gesture. "After you."

"You know," Zoe started, "it wouldn't kill you to go first."

"It might," she said. "Why else do you think I want you in the front?"

Zoe rolled her eyes and tensed her jaw but moved forwards regardless.

They walked in silence through the wasteland. There was no Dalek presence on the ground or in the air around them, but they both kept looking around their surroundings with a healthy dose of caution. She suspected that the Daleks would see them long before she and the Corsair noticed them, but it gave a sense of security that she desperately needed. The air tasted funny on her tongue, and it prickled and then burned at Zoe's nose; she coughed against it when it coated the back of her throat. She imagined that she was going to be sick if there was a later, despite the double-dose injection of anti-radiation medication coursing through her body. After walking in silence for a few kilometres, the Corsair spoke just as they started to climb a very steep hill that made Zoe's thighs ache and calves burn.

"How did you meet the Doctor anyway?"

Zoe looked around at her in surprise. "Are we gossiping now? I thought that was below the great and mighty Time Lords."

"It's not like I've got anything better to do," the Corsair replied. "And it's not gossip, it's reconnaissance. There are those on Gallifrey who are interested in those that the Doctor chooses to travel with."

"Do you do anything without an ulterior motive?" She asked, exasperation creeping into her voice.

"Answer the question."

Zoe snorted and shook her head, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her coat. "He kidnapped my sister. I mean, accidentally kidnapped. And there wasn't really a kidnapping since Rose went with him willingly but the Nestene Consciousness was on Earth, and he was dealing with that when he met my sister and invited her to travel with him. He meant to bring her back the next day but, well, his driving is a little -"

"Abominable."

"Yeah," she said with a small, fond smile. _God, she missed him_. "So instead of being twelve hours later, he brought her back twelve months later."

The Corsair said something in Gallifreyan, the tone of which sounded long suffering. "Are you aware that he failed his test?"

"What test?"

"To pilot a TARDIS."

"I didn't, but that really doesn't surprise me," Zoe replied. "I figured he was making it up as he went along."

"I think his granddaughter was the pilot actually when they left Gallifrey," the Corsair said. She stumbled a little, and Zoe hesitated before pausing to offer her hand, which was duly ignored. "She always had a skill for flying a TARDIS."

"You knew Susan?" She asked, but the Corsair stared at her, not recognising the name. She quickly searched through her mind for Susan's proper name. "Arkytior?"

"Yes," she said. "We dated for a time."

 _That_ caught Zoe's interest.

"I thought Time Lords didn't date," she said. "I thought you all had arranged marriages."

"We do, but we were young and foolish," the Corsair said simply. "Did you not behave in a manner befitting the youth of your planet when you were a child?"

"Not really," Zoe said honestly. "My life was quite dull and sensible before I started travelling with the Doctor. I was a very studious child. I suppose I still am really, but at least I'm breaking up the monotony with things like this."

"Yes," the Corsair said dryly. "Infiltrating the most dangerous planet in the cosmos to pry open a Dalek to scan its sleeping brain is really what people should do to spice up their lives."

"I see sarcasm is a Time Lord trait, not just a Doctor thing."

The Corsair huffed, almost amused. "I'm beginning to find reasons to tolerate you, human"

"Oh, high praise indeed," she mocked. "Besides, I'm a very likeable person. At least that's what my wife always said."

Rocks slipped from beneath the Corsair's feet, and she stumbled again but caught herself before she needed to grab hold of Zoe. "How long have you been married?"

"Widowed now," Zoe said. She no longer felt the tight spasm of pain and grief when she spoke about Reinette as it once did; five years had passed since her wife had died, and whilst it still hurt and the grief could take her by surprise, she'd learned to live with the pain and make room for it. "She died some years ago. What about you? Are you married?"

"Yes," she said. "A couple of centuries now. Arranged, of course. We live fairly separate lives."

"You don't sound too broken up about that."

"Love is for children," the Corsair said before glancing at her. "And humans, apparently."

There was a compliment in there somewhere, Zoe was sure.

"Don't knock it. Love's made me stronger," she said, reaching reached the top of the hill. She breathed out in relief. Even with her thrice weekly intensive cardio regime that her personal trainer Miral put her through, she was still out of breath. She put her hands on her hips and stretched. The Corsair stood next to her on the top of the hill. "There it is. That's where we need to go."

It was a small round building made out of metal with the same bumps that the Daleks had on their bodies. She frowned at it.

"They have an aesthetic, I see," Zoe observed, and the Corsair glanced to her so she gestured vaguely towards the building. "The bumps on the outside. They're the same design as on their casing."

"It's not a design; it's the material. It's called Dalekanium," the Corsair told her. "It's a special metal that's used for the casing. They use it for their ships as well."

"Stick with what you know, I suppose," she said. "Any idea what that building might be?"

"It's a data processing centre," the Corsair told her without hesitation. "This far out of the city? It's probably not an important one. One or two Daleks will be there. We'll need to move quickly. If one of them gets the opportunity to send a signal, we'll have more Daleks coming down on us than we'll know what to do with."

Zoe nodded. "So go in hard and fast?"

"Hard, fast, and quiet."

Zoe led the way down the hill, but she followed the Corsair's lead when it came to approaching the processing centre. She fell in behind her and drew her weapon. She took great care not to point the gun at herself or at the Corsair's back, fairly certain that she would be left behind if she accidentally caused the Time Lord to regenerate. She kept her gun aimed at the ground near her feet. Her heart thundered in her chest so loudly that she was surprised the Corsair couldn't hear it. At best, she felt that she would be a good distraction to the Daleks in order to give the Time Lord enough time to do what needed to be done in taking them down; at worst, she would be a distraction for the Corsair.

She flexed her fingers around the gun, not liking the feel of it in her hand. It felt bulky and dangerous, although the design was quite elegant. She was worried it would slip from her sweaty hands, and she tightened her fingers around the grip. She followed so closely behind the Corsair that her toes pressed against her heels, and the Corsair threw her an exasperated look, her eyes flashing with warning. She grimaced apologetically and mouthed the word _sorry_ at her. The Corsair rolled her eyes and held her hand out for Zoe's phone. With her gun tucked between her knees that made the Corsair despair at the poor gun safety, Zoe found her phone and prepared the virus. She put it into her hands.

"On three," the Corsair murmured.

Zoe nodded. She swallowed hard. Her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips. Fear pulsed through her.

 _One._

 _Two._

 _Three._

They emerged around the corner as smoothly as water flowing over stone. There were three Daleks present, and they were taken unaware. It was impossible for Daleks to look startled but there was a beat of silence as the three eye-stalks turned towards them. The Corsair wasted no time and took care of the first one easily. The Alpha Mezon burst travelled down the eyestalk and fried the Dalek in its casing. Zoe aimed a shot at the one closest to her but she missed. She tried again but without success. She cried out as a burst from a Dalek nearly took her head off, and she flung herself around a corner. She grabbed her courage before she could panic further and rolled out the other side, peering down the barrel before pressing the trigger. The Dalek let out a cry as her shot struck home, and it fried in its casing. Her heart pounded in her chest. She tasted something metallic in her mouth, as though she had been sucking on pennies, and she belatedly realised it was adrenaline. She looked around for the Corsair and saw that she had immobilised the last Dalek by uploading Zoe's malware program.

The Corsair looked back at her and gave her a small nod.

"A bit messy, but not too bad," she said. Zoe felt that was high praise indeed. She rapped her knuckles against the Dalek casing. "One unconscious Dalek, yours to do with as you please. I only request that you hurry. We're running out of time."

"How long do we have?" Zoe asked, moving forward and taking her phone back. Her hand was shaking when the Corsair placed it in her palm, politely ignoring the tremors.

"Thirty-two minutes," she answered. "But bear in mind it took us twenty to get here."

"I just need ten."

"Then get to it."

Zoe approached the immobile, slumbering Dalek with a lack of caution that would be alarming in hindsight considering it was a Dalek. Despite how the Corsair rubbed her the wrong way, she trusted her, and she trusted her own code but it was still a Dalek: a sleeping Dalek was like a sleeping bear – _dangerous and not to be touched_ \- but she didn't have time to worry about that. She pulled up the programme on her phone that was now linked to the Dalek. If it didn't work, they would have to leave immediately. She simply wouldn't have the time to think of another plan whilst on Skaro. She would have to come back again at a later date or try something completely different; however, much to her relief, the program worked and the casing hissed open. A puff of steam released and the mutated creature inside was revealed. A sharp, medicinal smell hit her and lying beneath it, almost hidden by the drugs that pumped through the creature to keep it alive, was the smell of sweetly rotting meat. She swallowed against the urge to vomit.

Part of her had forgotten how nightmarish they truly were.

The Corsair hissed something in Gallifreyan that sounded like a swear word. "That's disgusting."

"You've never seen inside one before?" Zoe asked, glancing over her shoulder. She tried to keep her voice normal but it was difficult as she removed the nanites from her pocket and set a group of electrodes on the floor.

"No," she grimaced, looking away, but her eyes kept darting back curiously. "I've never wanted to either. What kind of things do you do travelling with the Doctor if you know how to pry open Dalek casing?"

"Little bit of this, little bit of that," Zoe said lightly. "This I taught myself. Now, hush, please. I need to focus."

She peeled the sticky backs off the electrodes and placed on the Dalek's mutilated body. She heard the Corsair gag behind her. "Wear gloves, for Rassilon's sake!"

Zoe ignored her just as she ignored the dry, squishy feel of the Dalek; she was surprised at the dryness. She imagined it would have been wet and slimy, but she was grateful that it wasn't. As it was, she imagined she would be doing a chemical peel on her hands when she next had the opportunity but the sensation would linger in her nightmares. She attached the wires from the electrodes to her phone before carefully injected the nanites into the mutated flesh, letting them take over the neural network. She sat down and folded her legs beneath her, starting the scan on her phone, pleased that the nanites were working.

"I need five minutes for this," Zoe said over her shoulder to the Corsair who was busying herself at one of the computer stations. "What are you doing anyway?"

"Having a look around their systems," she answered. "I'm sure there's something here that the High Council can use."

"Like what?" She asked sceptically. "Weather patterns? You said it yourself that this isn't an important processing station."

"Daleks are arrogant," the Corsair said. "They don't have much security because they can't conceive of someone or something that would land on Skaro and do this. Their network is connected so I just need to walk through a few backdoors and then I can get into the main system."

"If you trigger something before my scan is done, I'm going to be pissed as all fucking hell," Zoe warned her, but the Corsair just grunted distractedly.

Zoe sat down on the floor and held her phone in her hand as she watched the Delta Wave slowly upload.

She was so close to the end; so close that she could almost taste her victory. Once she got the delta wave scan, she could go back to her TARDIS and incorporate it into the generator. A few safety tests would follow taking one day, maybe two, and then she could finally go rescue the Doctor and Jack. Four years of hard work and the echoing loneliness of a life dedicated to one particular goal would be over. She could start living without feeling guilty again. She could visit places just for the joy of discovering somewhere new, and she could do it in the company of people that she loved. She knew now that she wasn't ready to settle back into a life on Earth where she got a job and a flat and maybe a nice human husband or wife. She wanted the stars and the TARDIS and the Doctor.

She had had a long time to think about that late-night confession where the Doctor told her he was in love with her. Over and over she had gone with Yatta on the subject, untangling her feelings and making them clear to her. She loved Reinette. She would always love Reinette, but Reinette was dead and she didn't want to spend the rest of her life alone and without experiencing that sort of love again.

There were all sorts of problems in the way of a long-lasting relationship with the Doctor, problems that Zoe had discussed at length with Yatta, but there was two overriding reasons why she should try.

He made her happy and she loved him.

She wanted the chance to tell him that. She wanted to see what the future held for them.

For the first time in a very long time she was excited about what lay ahead of her.

Her phone beeped to indicate the end of the scan. She jumped minutely, her mind pulling away from her hopes and dreams of the next stage of her life, and she checked to make sure the delta wave was secure on her phone. She grinned so widely that her cheeks hurt. The knowledge that she had actually done it swept over her like a sun rising over the horizon and bathing her in light. Her thumbs quickly moved across her touchscreen to save it to her hard-drive before she uploaded it to the Corsair's TARDIS computer for extra security. She sent a feedback loop along the electrodes to the Dalek, killing it whilst it was unconscious to stop those that came to investigate learning what she had done, and she jumped to her feet.

"Okay, we're good," Zoe said, triumph making her vibrant. She strode towards the Corsair. "If we run, we can get back to your TARDIS with time to spare."

The Corsair didn't answer.

Zoe paused at her side. "Corsair?"

Her head turned, and she looked apologetic and a little fearful. "I've triggered an alarm. They know we're here."

Zoe's blood ran cold. Her eyes darted to the screen. She didn't need a TARDIS to translate for her. She recognised the signs of a security breach well enough. "We need to go now."

"Agreed," The Corsair nodded, and she worked at trying to erase her presence from the system but Zoe shook her head.

"There's no time for that!" She exclaimed, aiming her gun at console and destroying the short-term memory. It sparked and smoked. She turned on her heel and headed for the exit, calling over her shoulder – " _run_!"


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

The ground disappeared from beneath Zoe's feet, and she cried out as she hit it full on. Her arms shook with the impact, and her boots scrambled against the surface to push herself forwards. A strong grip grabbed the back of her shirt and heaved her back to her feet. The Corsair flung her forward, barking at her to run. All around them Daleks were converging on their position and the Corsair was out of bullets. Whilst they ran she was able to transform her weapon to emit high bursts of energy at a 20-second interval but if they didn't reach the TARDIS soon then they were dead. Zoe scrambled down the side of the steep hill they had climbed not even an hour before, coughing at the dust that was kicked up into her face. The Corsair slid gracefully down the hill and grabbed her again.

"Get down!"

Zoe pressed herself into the side of the hill just as the space where she had previously been disappeared in an explosion of earth, dust, and rock; debris showered down onto her and slipped beneath her clothes to scrape at her skin. She tried to push herself up, but the Corsair kept her down with one hand planted firmly between her shoulder blades, and the harsh surface scraped at her hands and chin, blood pooling to the surface. The dust invaded her nose and mouth, and she coughed against it, her body reacting violently to the intrusion. Struggling against the Corsair's hold, she tried to lift her head and peer through the orange-pink haze that surrounded them. Her eyes watered at the effort, and she could make out ominous shadows of Daleks closing in on them. They were still some distance from the TARDIS: a solid run might get them there in ten minutes but there would be a lot of Daleks between them and safety.

The Corsair let her go abruptly and flung herself away as a Dalek laser blast blew up the space between them; their voices echoed from out of the confusion, and her heart thundered painfully in her chest. She pulled herself along the ground by her forearms and elbows, sinking her fingers into the ground to scramble about in the dust and detritus for her gun. Tears steamed down her cheeks as her body tried to clean the dust out of her eyes, and she couldn't stop coughing. She tasted blood in the back of her throat from where the radioactive particles were burning away at her soft flesh, eating through the muscles and fibres. She hacked a mouthful of blood, saliva, and dust onto the ground before she found her gun. Grasping it, she rose trembling to her knees.

The Daleks' glowing eyestalks made it easy for her to see them through the haze, but seeing the golden blue glow pierce through the storm of the fight made her skin prickle and the hair on the back of her neck stand to attention.

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMIN–!"

The Alpha Mezon burst from Zoe's gun cut it off mid-speech. It cried out as the Alpha Mezon burst struck true, and she pushed herself to her feet, pleased to find that, in times of emergencies, her aim was true. She was almost out of ammunition though, and she looked wildly around her to try and find the Corsair but she couldn't see her. Panic filled her. The thought that she had been left behind prominent in her mind, and her thumb pressed against the side of her gun, promising herself the Daleks wouldn't take her alive. Her chest heaving with panting breaths, she spun and killed another Dalek – the sounds of its screams was barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

"CORSAIR!" Zoe yelled into the chaos. "Corsair! Where are you?"

Between the screaming fury of the Daleks and the consistent explosions, Zoe couldn't hear an answer if there was one. The ground shook beneath her feet, and she looked up. Horror swept through her at the sight of more Daleks descending from the sky. She felt sick with fear and clumsy with adrenaline at the sight of them hovering overhead in formation before beginning the descent to the ground. She spun on her heel and fired her gun once more, throwing herself into a hole in the ground that had been created by the various blasts that missed her and the Corsair. She dug herself deep into the ground, knees pressed into her chest, and she checked her gun.

"No, no, no, no, no," Zoe muttered to herself, smacking it against her palm in the hopes that the red light of _no ammunition_ would change to the reassuring green. She depressed the trigger repeatedly but nothing happened. "Fuck. Shit. _Fuck_."

Everything had gone to hell just as she had what she needed, and she was furious with the Corsair for tripping the alarm. She was so close to seeing the Doctor and Jack again that she couldn't believe this was how it would end for her: dead in a ditch on Skaro, her family never knowing what happened to her, spending the rest of their lives waiting for her to come home whilst the Doctor and Jack died on the Game Station. It couldn't be how it ended, not when she had so much left to do, and fresh determination born of panic and fear filled her.

She pressed herself up against the edge of the hole and tried to think whilst ignoring the pain in the back of her throat, nose, and eyes. Her mind spun quickly, trying to think of something that would save them. Her body convulsed with another coughing fit that sent blood spraying across her hands and boots as she bent double over her knees – bile and the lasagna she had eaten earlier soaked the dry ground beneath her. That was not a good sign. The radiation was poisoning her far quicker than she had anticipated, especially with her double dose of anti-radiation medication. A groan filtered from her mouth at the pain, and she pressed her hands over her ears to try and block out the noise that was surrounding her. It was clear the Corsair wasn't dead yet as Zoe was still low down on the Daleks' list of priorities, and she wanted to keep it that way.

 _Think. Think!_ she urged herself, trying to remember everything she knew about the Daleks and what she could do to stop them. With perfect clarity she recalled how much damage one Dalek could do, and more of them simply kept coming, making her feel useless and helpless. Except she wasn't useless, and she was only very rarely helpless; after everything she had been through and learned in order to save the Doctor and Jack, there had to be something in her mental arsenal that would be of use to her now. Scrunching herself up so that she could dig her hand into the pocket of her jeans, she pulled out her phone.

The Doctor had his sonic screwdriver; she had her phone.

"Come on," Zoe muttered to herself, swiping into the memory and pulling her the malware code that was dormant. "If I amplify the power, then I might...but how? How do I get more power with fucking nothing?"

The code had been designed to affect only one Dalek, but she theorised that if she could boost the radius of the signal then she might be able to disable more of them to give her and Corsair enough breathing room to get out of the valley that they were pinned down in. From across the field of fire, she heard energy pulses every 20 seconds and was reassured that, for now, the Corsair was alive. Zoe hunched down further in the ragged hole whose walls crumbled against her shoulders as rocks slid down her shirt to gather above the waistband of her jeans and got to work. Her fingers moved swiftly across her keyboard to alter the code so that it could be projected instead of inputted, and she fashioned a quick antenna out of the bobby pins she used in her hair. She had never worked so quickly and didn't have time to double check her calculations or the extra code; she had to trust herself.

Shifting, she peeked over the top of the trench. Another flash of light and the scream of a dying Dalek assured her that the Corsair was still fighting, but the only reason she was alive was because she had barricaded herself into the small hollow of a stone cave. The Daleks had her completely surrounded, and she was offensively outnumbered.

"This is dangerous," Zoe breathed, climbing out of the hole whilst keeping pressed close to the ground. "This is so, so dangerous."

The wall fell away beneath her hands, but she had enough momentum to pull herself up and over the top. She stayed flat against the ground, calculating, before she jumped to her feet and ran for the nearest Dalek. It wasn't expecting anyone to run at it, and it swung its eyestalk around at the last second. Zoe compensated her trajectory and _jumped._ A laser blast missed her foot by an inch, and she cried out as she used used one hand to balance herself on its domed head. She used her forward momentum to swing her legs over the eyestalk so that she straddled it. For one moment, she was frozen there, taken aback by her own daring, and even the Dalek seemed as taken aback by the move as it could be. Then she moved again, bracing her weight against its main body whilst she pressed her feet into it, securing a foothold.

A grunt slipped from her as it began to spin wildly in an attempt to try and shake her off, but she was determined to keep her seat. She slapped her phone against its access port – a small, almost invisible, opening where the top half of its casing met the lower section. She pressed the button on her phone, and the malware code infiltrated its system. Between her thighs, she felt it vibrate as a high-pitched sound grew louder and louder until it cut off abruptly. As soon as it stopped shaking, she fell off it and knelt by its side, using its body to protect her from the attention she had drawn to herself. Using her new access into the Dalek's system, she amplified the signal along the bobby pin antenna and buried it inside the Dalek. She then sent it back along the internal network, transforming the Dalek's metal casing as one giant satellite that pulsed out her code.

Slowly, like dominoes falling over, the Daleks around her started to shutdown and sleep. She risked her head by peering around the side of her Dalek and watched as the effect spread out from them in a circle. Even those in the sky began to shake and tumble towards the ground, landing with loud, heavy crashes. The sudden lack of weapons' fire made her ears ring, and she could only hear herself breathing heavily. Carefully, she stood up and wrapped her fingers around her phone, pulling it free from the side of the Dalek and using her sleeve to wipe the soft metal of the bobby pin from the top of it: the force of the signal causing it to melt against her phone's casing.

There was a long moment where nothing moved before -

"Human?"

"Corsair?" Zoe called out, her voice hoarse and broken. She pushed forward, through the dust that moved gently through the air between them, thinning as peace settled. The Corsair moved cautiously out from behind her defensive position, blood streaked down one side of her face and mattered in her pale blonde hair. "You okay?"

"Yes," she said, casting her eyes around at the immobile Daleks. "What happened?"

Zoe held up her phone. "I used the malware code and boosted its range, so instead of one Dalek -"

"You got them all," the Corsair said on an exhale, relieved enough to look impressed by her quick thinking. "That was well done."

"Thank you, but we need to go. I don't know how long they'll be like this for," Zoe said, offering her assistance to help her out of the rubbled. The Corsair swayed dangerously, and Zoe caught her, concern making her frown. "Are you okay?"

"I will be."

They reached the TARDIS in ten minutes at a flat-out run, which was fortunate as Zoe's code was wearing off and the Daleks were beginning to regain consciousness. The Corsair flung open the doors, and they plunged inside. As soon as they were inside and the door was shut behind them, the Corsair was at the controls moving with speed. Zoe, unable to keep to her feet any longer, dropped to her knees and coughed violently as they escaped Skaro and entered the Time Vortex. Blood flecked the Corsair's white floor whilst the coughs ripped at the back of Zoe's throat, and she struggled for breath. Her anti-radiation injections didn't account for actually ingesting the radioactive waste of Skaro, and the part of her mind that wasn't focused on the pain of her coughing wondered at just how awful her recovery was going to be. It didn't take a genius to know that swallowing mouthfuls of radioactive substances wouldn't do wonders for her health

Eventually, after feeling as though she had hacked up both her lungs and maybe a kidney, she collapsed back against the door breathing heavily. The Corsair was slumped on the floor as well and, for a moment, Zoe thought she was unconscious but she moved and groaned. With a grimace, Zoe pulled herself up onto her feet and staggered to the console. The Corsair had them bouncing around the Time Vortex on autopilot, making them materialise at various destinations before slipping away again, in order to hide their trail from the Daleks. She didn't know how likely it was that they would be chased by a Dalek ship but it was better safe than sorry. She moved around the console and knelt next to the Corsair, who blinked at her through the blood that covered her eyes.

"You need the sickbay," Zoe said heavily. "Can you stand?"

The Corsair frowned. "Of course I can stand. You look awful."

"Yeah, I bet I do," Zoe said, feeling awful.

She used the console to pull herself to her feet and followed the Corsair out of the console room to where the sickbay was more or less in the same location as the one on the Doctor's TARDIS. It was tidier than the one she was used to, everything in its proper place, with no comforting touches like a knitted blanket that the Doctor kept folded on the edge of a bed to provide a gentle touch when one hand to spend the night recovering; she doubted there wasn't a tin of ginger biscuits in the Corsair's sickbay either for people to snack on whilst broken bones were set and abrasions healed. She wished that she was on the Doctor's TARDIS surrounded by the comforting press of consciousness against the back of her mind rather than in the sterile unfriendliness of an unfamiliar one.

The Corsair took her chin in her hand and lifted it up. Zoe winced when a hypospray was pressed firmly against her thyroid – potassium iodine injected straight into her. She was given a pill that dissolved on her tongue and made her shudder as it worked its way into her digestive tract to begin binding radioactive elements together and stop them from spreading. The Corsair kept giving her various different medications all designed to slow the spread of the radiation and expel it from her body. She didn't tell Zoe what any of them were, and Zoe didn't think to ask. Her head throbbed, and her stomach hurt; the medication helped to alleviate some of that pain and so she trusted the Corsair to help her.

She was made to strip out of her clothes, which the Corsair stuffed into the hazardous waste chute to be incinerated later, before she was ushered into the decontamination shower immediately off from the sickbay. It was the size of Jackie's kitchen in London but with smooth white walls with nozzles at regular intervals on every single surface. Zoe shivered, naked and miserable, in the middle of the room whilst the Corsair pressed decontamination soap and a soft loofah into her hands.

"Make sure you clean every inch of your body," the Corsair instructed her, stepping out. "Even the smallest amount of radiation could multiply and kill you."

"Good to know," Zoe said, feeling ridiculous.

The Corsair shut the door behind her and the room beeped softly. She braced herself and was glad that she did as the spray was strong and painful. She was attacked from every direction by sterile water that was filled with all sorts of medication intended to seep into the skin and down into the body to break apart and deactivate the radiation within her. It _hurt_ though. Her skin stung and blistered with rage but she forced herself to scrub at her body with the loofah, afraid of missing a spot and having to prolong the radiation sickness. She made sure to get every single dip and crevice on her body – between her toes, behind her ears, underneath her nails. The longer she was in the shower, the better she started to feel. Her head cleared and the nausea began to leave her stomach. By the time the Corsair came to collect her after an hour, she felt almost normal again.

"It's at times like these that I really appreciate Time Lord technology," Zoe said, and the Corsair's mouth curved into a small, amused smile as she handed her a set of scrubs that wouldn't aggravate her skin. Her eyes flickered over the dark bruise that limned the Corsair's hairline. "How's your head?"

"Just a bruise," she said, stepping back from her so that Zoe could dress. She retrieved a glass of murky brown liquid from the side and held it out to her. "Drink all this."

It appeared thicker than a drink should be, and Zoe eyed it doubtfully as she pulled her shirt on over her head. "What is it?"

"It'll purge the radiation from your muscles, organs, and blood," the Corsair replied, still holding it out. Zoe took it and sniffed it, recoiling instantly. "I know it's awful, but you need to drink it."

"Bottom's up, I suppose," she said bracingly, lifting it to her mouth.

It was the single-worst thing she had ever put in her mouth, and that included Mickey's attempt to make a cake for Rose's 18th birthday when he accidentally added salt instead of sugar. Her body rebelled violently against the viscous liquid as it moved its way down her throat and spread through her stomach, lining the sensitive walls and beginning its attack on the radiation that was buried deep within her. The Corsair's hand shot out to steady her as she doubled over, bile pushing the liquid back up her system, and she was seconds away from spilling it over the front of the Corsair's clothes. Having thrown up on one Time Lord, she didn't want to repeat the experience with a less friendly one.

"Keep it down!" The Corsair said sharply, voice cracking like a whip. "You will drink this even if I have to pump it into your stomach."

The threat didn't work, but Zoe's determination did as it kicked in. She swallowed back against the bile and managed to keep it down. Her fingers tightened around the glass, and there was a tearing sound when she gripped the cover on the medical bed too tightly, tearing it between her fingers.

"God," she gasped desperately, sweating. "What the hell is in this? It tastes like bleach and death."

The Corsair looked impatient. "Drink it or die, human."

"Your bedside manner is atrocious," she said caustically, but she lifted the glass to her mouth again.

She tried to think about anything else except the taste that wormed its way through her body and filled her, imprinting itself on her so that she would never forget it. The glass seemed bottomless, and it started to feel chunky the closer she got to the end: the texture was almost as bad as the taste and the smell. The Corsair watched her closely to make sure that she drank all of it, not trusting her to tip it away if she turned her back, and took the glass from her when she was done. Zoe's body trembled finely in the aftermath, sweat making her raw skin glisten. She opened her mouth wide to try and erase the taste the remained there. The Corsair returned with a handheld scanner that Zoe recognised from the numerous amount of times the Doctor had shoved it under her nose.

"Your radiation levels are dropping," she said, eyes on the scanner. "You will need to drink one more of those in twelve hours to make sure that everything is cleaned out of your system, and I suggest that you don't travel too far from a toilet."

"Jesus Christ," Zoe muttered, pained.

"Don't drink anything else or eat anything until it's been expelled from your system, and the same when you drink the second glass," she continued, blithely ignoring her patient. "Your blood needs to be cleaned and your insides purged of radioactive particles. Introducing food or water will dilute its effectiveness."

"Right, okay," Zoe said. "What exactly is the name of the death liquid?"

The Corsair looked unimpressed and rattled off a name in Gallifreyan. Zoe raised an eyebrow and waited. "I'll note it down for you, shall I?"

"I would appreciate that, thank you."

The Corsair took Zoe's phone from her and took a picture of the medicine she needed instead of attempting to write in Gallifreyan on a human device. She gave it back to Zoe along with a small green pastel to sniff on so as to clear her nasal cavities of lingering dust particles.

"You humans are more fragile than I though," she observed. "You nearly died despite the precautions we took."

Zoe sniffed deeply on the pastel, nose twitching. She sneezed before speaking. "Sorry to disappoint."

"No," the Corsair said, taking her by surprise. She looked up from rubbing at her nose, trying to get the itch out. "I would have regretted it. You're more than I thought you would be."

Zoe blinked at her, oddly touched. "Thanks."

The admission appeared to have made the Corsair feel uncomfortable because she straightened and stepped away from Zoe, creating more distance between them. "I'll return us to Rayal shortly after we left. There are some shoes in the wardrobe if you require them. Meet me in the console room when you're ready."

Zoe watched her leave, a little baffled by how quickly her mood changed, and she shook her head.

 _Time Lords._

* * *

Unfortunately for both Zoe and the Corsair, Zoe wasn't able to make it off the TARDIS before the anti-radiation treatment kicked in within her, and she began to sweat the radiation out through the pores of her skin. It started when she was in the wardrobe, appropriating a pair of sandals that would keep her bare feet off the questionable surface of Rayal. One minute she was strapping them on and the next she was curled up on the floor, crippled in pain, as the radiation worked its way out of her. She was able to claw her way into a bathroom that was hurriedly moved to be close to her so that it could leave her body in other ways as well. It was awful and violent. She never wanted to experience radiation poisoning again and cursed the Doctor and Jack violently, blaming them for her situation as it was difficult for her to remember that she had chosen it willingly whilst suffering horribly.

The only benefit to the entire situation was that it passed quickly. On Earth she would have died from the amount of radiation that had been pumped onto her body but Time Lord medicine and technology meant that, two hours after she started sweating, the radiation was purged from her. She would still need to drink the second dose just to make sure everything was gone, but the reaction would be less severe. She lay curled up on the floor of a sterile bathroom and pulled herself into the tub, working at the handles so that the shower burst into action above her. She just lay there and let the water work over her, making the scrubs stick to her, and that was where the Corsair found her twenty minutes later.

"Are you trying to drown yourself?" She asked with a hint of interest. "Because that seems to be a futile way to attempt it. I recommend putting a plug in."

"I can't tell if you think you're actually being helpful or simply making a joke," Zoe said heavily, limbs splayed at her side. She felt weak and empty. "Either way...hello."

"Hello," the Corsair replied, setting a fresh set of scrubs down on the lid of the toilet. "How do you feel?"

"Like I have nothing left in my body," she admitted. "I think I flushed my spine away there."

"Does that happen often to humans?"

Zoe glared at her, and the Corsair's mouth twitched.

"Sorry for taking up more of your time," Zoe apologised, feeling weak and vulnerable. She began the laborious process of picking herself up out of the tub. The Corsair didn't move to help her, not that Zoe expected it. "And for your bathroom."

"It's fine," she replied. "I'll simply delete the room."

"You can delete rooms?" She asked, sitting in a wet heap on the floor, catching her breath.

"Yes."

When she didn't elaborate, Zoe looked up. "You're not much for conversation, are you?"

"I don't spend much time with humans," she replied. "I'm afraid of not familiar with your conversational requirements."

"Except for gossip," Zoe teased whilst trying to pull her wet top off. "Apparently that's a shared trait between our species."

"Indeed," she said, watching her. "Do you require help?"

"Yes, _please_."

The Corsair pulled her to her feet and leant her against the sink before methodically stripping her of her clothes. Zoe didn't feel the need to cover herself, correct in her assumption that this Time Lord wouldn't be interested in seeing her naked, and the Corsair was kind enough to towel her down as well. Standing had given Zoe some of her strength back, and she was able to dress herself and slip her feet into the sandals. She gathered her belongings, which was limited to her phone and her TARDIS key, and followed the Corsair back to the console room to make her departure.

They were parked back in the alley between the bins. The scent of the rotting waste made her stomach turn, sensitive as it was at the moment, and she looked around at her surroundings, marvelling at how so little could change when she much had occurred for her. She didn't think she would ever get used to that aspect of time travel. After her return from France and seeing the Doctor again, it had been a shock and an adjustment. She thought she wouldn't be surprised by it after that, but the little things kept taking her aback. She hoped it remained that way. She hoped that she didn't become so used to time travel and space travel that the little things faded from her and she treated them as normal.

The nightlife, distinguishable from what for passed for day on Rayal by the lowering of the overhead lights and the increase in neon lighting, seemed to be in its throes. Crowds of people moved through the hollowed-out meteorite like a snaking, heaving mass that had a life of its own; the music was louder, making the ground vibrate finely beneath her feet; and scantily clad humanoids were moving through the crowd like worker ants as they promoted different clubs.

Zoe anticipated a horrible walk back to the TARDIS between the crowds and her post-sickness haze that needed food and tea to settle her, but she was simply so relieved to be back on Rayal and having survived Skaro with her insane plan that she couldn't help but smile.

"For a time there," she said without looking back. "I thought I wasn't going to see this again."

"Many people would be happy not to see this den of despair again," the Corsair sniffed, leaning in the doorway.

"Den of despair?" Zoe asked, turning back to look at her in amusement. "You think Rayal is full of despair?"

"Don't you?"

"No." She shook her head and gestured around her. "This is life. Everything that happens in the universe happens here in microcosm: sex, laughter, love, sadness, joy, despair, desperation, _hope_. Everything's here. This place is more alive than some I've been to."

The Corsair looked at her, quietly assessing. "An interesting point of view."

"Blame the Doctor," Zoe said unconcerned. "His optimism is rather infectious."

"Perhaps to humans," she said. "For Time Lords it's really quite annoying."

Zoe laughed, a pressure gone from her shoulders now that the most dangerous part of her plan was over and done with.

"Thank you for everything, Corsair," she said sincerely, turning to face her. "You didn't have to listen to me, let alone help me, so I appreciate the risks you took today."

The Corsair's dark eyes flickered over her. "I didn't do it for you."

"I know," she replied, unoffended. "You got something out of it too. But that doesn't mean I'm not grateful. Everything hinged on you saying yes, so thank you."

"You're welcome," the Corsair shifted, uncomfortable with the gratitude. "What's next for you?"

"The Doctor and Jack," Zoe said, breathing in so deeply that her chest expanded outwards and her shoulders raised. She felt it in her bones that it was time. "I need to integrate the delta wave into my generator, run a few tests, and then I'll be ready to go get them."

"And face an army of Daleks at the same time?"

"That's sort of a requirement when it comes to saving my guys," she admitted, "but yes. Twice in one day. How many people can say that?"

The Corsair rubbed her eye and looked pained. "You're crazier than a Yggridian spitting snake but with significantly less common sense. At least they know not engage with predators far superior to them."

"I'm relentlessly ambitious," Zoe said dryly and was pleased when the Corsair's mouth twitched, taking it for the victory it was. She held out her hand. "It was a pleasure. I hope our paths cross again in the future."

"I –" she looked down at the extended hand. "I don't know what you expect me to do with that."

Zoe blinked, surprised. "You shake it."

"How?"

"Like this," she said. She reached forwards carefully to take the Corsair's hand and slowly showed her how to shake hands. "It's how some people on Earth say hello and goodbye. I didn't realise you don't do that on Gallifrey."

"How...intimate," the Corsair said, sounding as though she was uncertain of whether she liked it or not so Zoe let go of her hand.

"How do Time Lords say goodbye then?"

The Corsair touched her hand to her left shoulder before drawing it out in front of her, palm up. Zoe watched the move attentively before she repeated it.

The Corsair nodded. "Passable."

"Thanks, I think," she said, her eyes crinkling in the corners. "What about you? What are you doing next?"

"To Gallifrey," the Corsair said, and Zoe's stomach clenched at the sharp reminder of where she was in the Corsair's timeline. It had been surprisingly easy to forget. "The High Council will want to have the information retrieved from Skaro analysed."

"Well, I hope it's not just weather patterns for you."

"As do I," she admitted and stood up straighter. "It has been an interesting experience these last few hours, human. One I don't care repeat."

Zoe gave a small smile. "Neither do I, if I'm honest."

"Travel safe," the Corsair said, touching her shoulder again. "May the stars guide you well."

"And you, Corsair," Zoe replied, mimicking her farewell.

She stepped back from the TARDIS as the Corsair disappeared back inside without a glance back. The door closed behind her, and Zoe stood and watched as it faded quietly from view with none of the glorious sounds that she associated with the Doctor's TARDIS. The pressure of the dematerialisation made her hair shake and her skin erupt in goosebumps. Within moments she was left alone in the alleyway with her phone clamped tightly in one hand and her TARDIS key in the other. She released the breath she was holding and turned to leave, throwing a longing look at the kebab shop that soon turned to distaste as the smell of the cooked meat made her stomach turn over yet again.

She needed something plain and dull to eat.

Zoe walked swiftly through the hot press of people, moving against the tide of them, and she kept her fingers curled so tightly around her phone that part of her worried she was going to break it. She would be furious with herself if she made it off Skaro only to lose her phone to an opportunistic thief. As she walked, she wondered what would happen to the Corsair now. The Doctor had never mentioned how she died, and it was all Zoe could think about as she skirted the edge of the crowd to follow the line of the meteorite wall along. Was she on Gallifrey the day it was destroyed? Had she died in the years before that awful day fighting against the nightmares that the Doctor had spoken of? Maybe the Doctor didn't know. So many people had died that she doubted he knew the fact of all of them.

A black cloud of grief and pain settled over her at the thought of the Corsair dying as horribly as Susan had, and she hesitated, wondering if she could have actually done something or said something to help save Gallifrey.

She shook those thoughts from her mind as quickly as she could. The temptation to intervene was strong and rooted in good intentions but she wasn't fool enough to mess with something so catastrophically dangerous as The Last Great Time War. Just thinking about the damage that a stray word could have done, or her capture and torture by Daleks could have triggered, made her surroundings sway as panic and the subsequent relief crowded in on her. Nothing bad had happened but her plan had been reckless in the extreme. She was sure she was going to spend many nights tossing and turning over whether it was the right thing to do given how awful things could have been if she'd fallen into enemy hands, or if the Corsair had decided to take her before the High Council instead.

At a certain point in time the Daleks and the Time Lords were indistinguishable from each other, and Zoe's knowledge of their fates would have been pulled out of her by uncaring violence by either side.

She tried to keep her mind off the _what if_ s but was unsuccessful.

She slipped down a side corridor and descended a low slope to reach the doors of the storage facility. The security guards didn't even look up from the conversation when she walked past the small table they were sat at, guns propped to one side and cards and alcohol on the table between them. She shook her head, pleased that the TARDIS had her own security systems. She passed several covered shuttles; a set of large metal boxes with air holes that shook and made her swerve around them; a number of curious artefacts; artwork that she suspected was stolen; and bio-matter containers before she reached the TARDIS. She paused and drank in the beautiful blue box that made her heart soar with happiness and relief.

Zoe moved in close and leaned against the ship, resting her forehead against the blue paint. She was warm and lovely, and she made Zoe feel safe in a way that very few people and things could. Her eyes drifted shut, and she breathed in slowly, drinking the moment in, before she took the key from around her neck and slid it into the lock, opening her up with a gentle click.

The TARDIS welcomed her home with a warm, pleased hum in the back of her mind.

"I'm home," she said unnecessarily, closing the door behind her so that her feeling of safety was complete. She leaned against the door and exhaled. "I'm _home_."

In her mind, she could feel the TARDIS smiling, and it brought a smile to Zoe's face as well. A bubble of laughter rose up and out of her throat.

"God, you were right, that was absolutely awful and insane," she said, passing a hand across her face. "But I did it. I got the delta wave signal with a little bit of radiation poisoning at the same time, but beggars can't be choosers, I suppose."

The grating beneath her feet vibrated a little in concern.

"Oh, hush," Zoe said fondly, touched by her concern. "I'm fine, more or less. The Corsair gave me medical treatment and a truly heinous drink that has wreaked havoc with my digestion and everything else. Honestly, the less said about it the better."

She lightly pushed away from the door and headed up the ramp, turning her phone over in her hand and between her fingers.

"We now have everything we need to go rescue our idiot friend and Jack," she said, plugging her phone into the access port and clicking open the computer screen. She transferred the delta wave across from her phone to the TARDIS and felt much better once it was within the security of the TARDIS's system. "Within the next twenty-four hours, provided nothing goes wrong and everything works as I've planned it, – which I realise might be tempting fate here – we'll have a full house again. It won't just be me and you talking to each other any more, although –" she smiled conspiratorially at the console, "I will miss our little chats."

Soft, warm air blew over her, and she laughed.

Zoe stopped in the kitchen to get a large glass of water to rehydrate herself, unhappily forgoing food since she remembered what it had done to Reinette after an episode of severe vomiting towards the end, and she sipped at her water as she retreated to her study. She sat down in her chair and opened up her laptop, distracting herself from the gnawing hunger within by using it as an incentive to focus on her work. It took less time than she expected to integrate the delta wave into the generator - possibly because she knew the system inside out, and it was like slotting the last piece of the puzzle into place - but she was done in forty-three minutes exactly. She would double check her work one last time before leaving for the Game Station, but it was done. She saved her work and uploaded it to the TARDIS mainframe just as her stomach lurched unpleasantly.

She swallowed a larger mouthful of water as her eyes moved rapidly across the screen.

"Okay," Zoe said to the TARDIS, "it's done. Think we should rescue them or go on holiday in Jamaica?"

The TARDIS flashed her lights, amused, and Zoe laughed.

"Yeah, I suppose Jamaica can wait," she agreed, rising to her feet and moving steadily from her study, nervousness and fear blooming through her. "You're ready, I'm ready. I'd feel better with some food in my stomach, but I'm really just looking for excuses right now. Do I need to check the shields again? I should properly do that."

A blast of ice cold air washed over her as she stepped into the console room and she yelped.

"Yep, all right, making excuses," Zoe nodded. "I'm just nervous, you know? This has been a long time coming. But we're ready. We are. I've made sure of it."

Her nervous rambling filled the air around her whilst she checked that the generator was connected with the TARDIS power system and that everything was waiting for her to push the activation button. Carefully, she input the co-ordinates to the Game Station to exactly two minutes after Rose had been sent away, fearful of leaving it much longer.

Beneath her feet, the TARDIS vibrated as they left Rayal and entered the Time Vortex.

It was time.


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

 _The Game Station,_

 _Four years and five minutes earlier_

The Doctor snuck a glance at Rose as his hands moved automatically, twisting wires together and soldering thin metal into place with his screwdriver. She sat opposite him, her body folded into the confusion of the thick wires, tools spread out in front of her in readiness to hand them to him, but she was picking at the frayed edge of one of her laces, mind clearly elsewhere. He stared at her and remembered their first meeting in the basement of Henrik's. It felt like a long time ago now. He hadn't any idea of what bright brilliance was to come from meeting her. Rose Tyler saved his life in that basement. Her courage in the face of the unknown broke through the dark, thick wall of grief and PTSD that had surrounded him ever since he destroyed Gallifrey. She was like the sun after a long stretch of darkness, and the warmth of how alive she was had started to thaw him.

He wondered if she knew how much she had saved him.

He wondered if he should tell her.

There were so many things he wanted to thank her for but saving his life and bringing Zoe into his orbit were two things that he felt he could never repay. His young, pink and yellow human with a heart bigger than the TARDIS and a joy that dominated everything was so much more than she thought she was, and guilt surged through him at how careless he'd been with her in the beginning when they didn't know each other.

He winced at the memory of their first trip together. It was cruel to take her to the end of the Earth, and he burned with shame and embarrassment at the thought of how sharp and impatient he was with her. She was scared, and he had left her to fend for herself. He should have taken her somewhere better, somewhere fun, somewhere that her innocence remained intact for a little bit longer. Instead, he wanted her to hurt just like he hurt, but the sight of tears on her cheeks when he found her in front of the window, watching Earth burn, had made him feel like a mean old man. She deserved better, and he was sorry that he couldn't give her better and make up for what he had done to her.

He never intended to hurt the people he travelled with. He always wanted them to have fun and to enjoy what the universe had to offer, but it seemed that his friends always ended up in situations that were dangerous and harmful, sometimes fatally. He still couldn't think about Adric without his throat closing up and hot tears burning at the back of his eyes. They were always so brave and that bravery tended to only grow and grow until they were all on the Game Station: impossible odds in front of them and safety behind. He came into their lives and blew them apart, making it so they could never go back to who they were and never be satisfied with a quiet human life again.

Zoe was the perfect example of the sort of damage he was able to inflict on people.

At seventeen years old, she was more focused than most human adults. She knew exactly what she wanted and refused to be distracted from that. When she refused to go with him, he had been surprised and a little insulted, but there was something about her that made him push and compromise. He wondered what would have happened if he had accepted her first answer and just continued travelling with Rose. He was sure he would have seen her again when he dropped Rose off for a visit, but he couldn't imagine his days without her. All the things that they had seen and done together; their friendship that meant so much to him; and the feeling of loving someone so fully again were things that he treasured. Yet they cost him nothing, whereas they cost her everything.

She had been perfectly fine before he crashed into her life and turned it upside down. She could be at university at the moment, eighteen years old and determined, instead of a grieving, widowed young woman trying to recover from the injuries his carelessness had caused her. Perhaps it was for the best that she gently rebuffed his advances, her kiss notwithstanding. He was afraid of the type of damage he could inflict on her if she got any closer to him.

"Suppose..." Rose started, breaking the silence and making him lurch out of his introspection, looking up at her as she trailed off with a small frown.

Her long blonde hair fell over her pink hoodie, and she looked young.

Sometimes he forget how young they all were.

"What?" He asked, hands pausing.

She shook her head. "It's nothin'."

He looked down at the pieces of equipment in his lap, her unfinished thought repeating in his ear, and he wished Jack was there. Whenever he had problems understanding human intricacies, a topic that still tripped him up hundreds of years later as each human was distinct from the next, Jack was there to discreetly guide him through it. He didn't know what Rose's _suppose_ meant, but Jack would. He wished he hadn't let his friend go off in a valiant attempt to buy some time. He should be there with them where he belonged, not hundreds of floors above in the hope that his life would buy enough time for the Doctor to complete his work. Shame filled him for not keeping Jack safe, and he looked up again.

"You said suppose," he prompted, wanting to hear what she had to say.

"No, I was just thinkin'," Rose said with a small shrug, eyes flicking to him and then away again. "I mean, obviously you can't, but - you've got a time machine. Why can't you just go back to last week and warn them?"

His features softened in the face of her selflessness. Not a single thought about saving herself, but rather how to save others.

"As soon as the TARDIS lands in that second," he explained simply, a brush of apology in his voice, "I become part of events and stuck in the timeline."

She looked resigned even if she didn't fully understand the why. "Yeah, thought it'd be somethin' like that."

"There's another thing the TARDIS could do though," the Doctor said, and she looked to him with her big brown eyes that she, Zoe, and Jackie all shared. Her expression was one of complete trust, and it broke his hearts. One way or another, he let them down in the end. "It could take us away. We could leave, and let history take its course. We could go to Marbella in 1989."

"What's so special about Marbella 1989?"

"Don't know," he said with a smile. "We could find out."

Her eyes brightened as her mouth curved up, but a sadness and certainty filled in the rest of her face. "You'd never do that. You can't leave people in trouble."

"No, I couldn't, but you could still ask," he reminded her, and she rolled her eyes at him as though it was the stupidest thing she had ever heard him say. "Never even occurred to you, did it?"

"Well," Rose said with straight shoulders and a brave smile. "I'm just too good."

He laughed softly. "What is it about you Tyler women that make you so... _human_?"

"It's just how we are," she smiled at him, her cheeks pink. "An' mum was always helpin' people when we were little. You needed somethin' doin' or a safe place to stay? Jackie Tyler was the woman to go to. Zo an' I woke up so many times to someone sleepin' on the sofa or knockin' on the door an' callin' for mum. Guess we got it from her."

"Your mum is something else," the Doctor agreed, and Rose raised her eyebrows before she laughed. "Don't tell her I said that. I couldn't bear it if she thought I was being nice to her."

"Oh, shut it," she grinned. "We all know that you like her."

The Doctor tried to scowl but it was hard to in the face of Rose's amusement, the fear and tension of the moment temporarily gone. They were just two friends having a laugh, and he wished it could stay like that, but the station computer behind his head beeped. They both looked around, and the smile drained from Rose's face.

"What's that?"

"The delta wave has started to build," he explained, shifting things off of his lap and feet. "The question is – how long does it need?"

Rose jumped up and held her hand out to him. He took it with a grin, her fingers warm and familiar within his, and they turned to look at the console. Numbers and equations splayed themselves across it, twirling and twisting as the information processed quickly, but his mind was agile and able to keep up. His stomach sank when he understood what the information represented. It was just as he suspected; there wasn't enough time. It had been a fanciful long shot to begin with. He knew that he didn't have a way to differentiate between human and Dalek patterns. There might have been a chance at getting a delta wave pattern from a Dalek but that would have taken too long, as well as costing a high number of lives in the attempt.

The situation started to ooze familiarity and his mind tricked him. As he looked around the room, avoiding looking at Rose, he was surrounded by the heat of Gallifrey. He could smell the dry hay in the barn and the tang of sand against the back of his throat. His leather jacket felt heavy against him, and his fingers burned with the memory of the weight of The Moment as he set it on the ground to look for a big red button.

Why did he find himself in these situations?

Why did it always fall to his shoulders to make the difficult decisions?

He knew exactly why. It was because hundreds of years ago when he was young, stupid, and idealistic, he had called himself the Doctor. He set himself on a course with that name, though he couldn't possibly have known it at the time, and it was a burden he had chosen to bear time and time again.

 _Foolish old man_ he chastised himself.

"Is that bad?" Rose asked, reminding him that she was there and that he had let her down once more. She looked at his face and didn't like what she saw there. "Okay, it's bad. How bad is it?"

He wanted to see Zoe again. The need to see her face and hear her voice was powerful. He wanted to sit next to her and relish the way that she leaned into him without realising it, their thighs pressed together and her shoulder against his. There were more things he wanted to say to her, more places he wanted to take her, and he just wanted to see her again. It didn't matter to him that she didn't love him the way he loved her. All that mattered was that he got to be around her and share in the things that made her happy and sad. She didn't need him though. She had never needed him as she had the brains, the courage, and the sheer determination to change the world with a toothpick and an ice-cream cone. But it was nice - for one shining moment - to be wanted by her.

He knew that he wasn't leaving the Game Station, not whilst everyone was in danger and the Daleks were at large, but the least least he could do was make sure that Rose was able to live and Zoe wouldn't have to mourn the loss of a sister so soon after the loss of her wife.

Regret solidified in his chest, and his eyes closed briefly, preparing himself for –

"Rose Tyler, you're a genius!" Rose jumped at the sudden exclamation, and she took an automatic step back when he spun around to face her, beaming wildly. "We can do it! If I use the TARDIS to cross my old timeline - _yes_!"

He jumped over the pile of wires and raced into the TARDIS knowing that she would be right on his heels. She hurried in after him, and he pirouetted gracefully to take hold of her upper arms and manoeuvre her into position at the console. Her body was thrumming with excitement, trusting that he had had a breakthrough, and he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and apologise to her. Instead, he took her hand and wrapped it around a lever that controlled the ventilation and smelt the apple of her shampoo that was underneath the smell of ozone from the teleport that had taken her onto the Dalek ship.

"Hold that down and keep position."

She looked at him, bright eyed and hopeful. "What's it do?"

"Cancels the buffers," he lied. "If I'm very clever – and I'm more than clever, I'm brilliant – I might just save the world or rip it apart."

"I'd go for the first one," Rose laughed, completely confused but filled with confidence in him.

"Me too."

He grinned and curled his hand on one of her shoulders, feeling the curve of it, before he leaned in and pressed his lips to her temple. Her skin was soft, and her hair tickled his nose. He kissed her goodbye, silently, desperately wishing her luck.

"Now I've just got to go and power up the Game Station," he said, pulling back. Her cheeks were pink as she looked up at him. He gave her a small wink. "Hold on!"

Her laughter followed him on his way out of the TARDIS, running like the coward he felt himself to be, and the door slammed shut behind him.

Silence surrounded him when he stopped in the midst of the nightmare nest of cables, and he slowly turned back to face his ship. She was so beautiful – his one, perfect constant throughout his long years of exile – self-imposed and otherwise; his eyes dragged over her, taking in her sharp lines and her beautiful blue. At least he could save her from being torn apart and twisted, turned into a weapon, if the Daleks got inside of her. She deserved a quiet retirement, though a small part of him hoped that Zoe would take care of her and travel in her, but he didn't dare linger on that dream.

His resolve wavered when he felt the TARDIS calling out in his mind, mournful and angry. She pulsed in his mind until it hurt, but he removed his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at his ship. The pain pressed in against him, not enough to truly harm him but enough for him to know that the TARDIS was upset. His thumb pressed down against the side of the tube, and the tip glowed blue. She could have fought him, could have decided against taking Rose away, but her engines started and a sad song of loss and friendship filled his mind.

"Doctor, what're you doing?" Rose cried out, voice muffled by the TARDIS. "Can I take my hand off? It's moving."

He watched his ship and felt Rose's words pass through him.

"Doctor!" She called again and, moments later, the door shook and rattled. The timbre of her voice changed as panic and realisation replaced trust and confusion. "Doctor, let me out! Let me out!"

He watched as the only home he had left faded from view, taking Rose Tyler back to her sister and to safe.

A tear tracked its way down his cheek.

He didn't have long to mourn the loss of his TARDIS as Jack's voice filled the room.

"Rose, I've called up the internal laser codes," Jack said into the still silence. "There should be a different number on every screen. Can you read them out to me?"

The Doctor wiped the tear away and straightened, turning to face the screen where Jack's handsome face was displayed. "She's not here."

"Of all the times to take a leak." He rolled his eyes, annoyed. "When she gets back, tell her to read me the codes."

"She's not coming back," the Doctor said, not quite able to meet Jack's eyes.

"What do you mean?" He asked, pausing. "Where'd she go?"

"Just get on with your work," the Doctor said sharply, and Jack's knowing, hazel eyes looked out at him sympathetically.

"You took her home, didn't you?" He said softly, understanding.

There wasn't a single trace of bitterness in his voice that he too hadn't been sent to safety. Just gentle acceptance that the Doctor knew he didn't deserve.

"Yeah."

"The Delta Wave," Jack started because he was clever and brilliant, "is it ever going to be ready?"

The Doctor looked away so that he couldn't see his friend's face. His blood ran cold when another voice broke through the communication system and cut across them.

The Emperor of the Daleks appeared on the viewscreen.

"Tell him the truth, Doctor," the Emperor of the Daleks said, voice dripping with sharp mockery as his grotesque form appeared on the viewscreen that dominated the room. "There is every possibility the Delta Wave could be complete, but no possibility of refining it. The Delta Wave must kill every living thing in its path, with no distinction between human and Dalek. All things will die by your hand."

"Doctor -" Jack said, worried, "the range of this transmitter covers the entire Earth."

"You would destroy Daleks and Humans together," the Emperor taunted him, and the muscles in the Doctor's back tightened as tension ran through him. "If I am God, the creator of all things, then what does that make you, Doctor?"

 _What indeed?_ he thought. That was a question he had been asking himself since he survived the end of the Time War. He had yet to find an answer. He didn't know if he ever would.

"There are colonies out there. The human race would survive in some shape or form, but you're the only Daleks in existence. The whole Universe is in danger if I let you live," the Doctor said, and he turned his attention to Jack, needing him to understand _why._ "Do you see, Jack? That's the decision I've got to make for every living thing. Die as a human or live as a Dalek. What would you do?"

Jack looked serious; it was an expression that didn't normally appear on his face.

"I'd rather die as a human," he said honestly. "It's not living if I'm not me any more."

"But he will exterminate you!" The Emperor cried.

Jack laughed, shaking his head. "I've never doubted him, and I'm not about to start now."

"Then you will die," the Emperor told him, but Jack simply eased his posture and grinned, lazy and easy.

"Honey, we've all got to die sometimes," he said, and the Doctor was in awe of his ridiculous friend, both hating and admiring his bravery. "Do what you have to do, Doctor. Don't worry about me. Worry about the rest of the universe."

"You're a good man, Jack," the Doctor said, meaning it. "I'm glad I met you."

Jack's smile was soft and sincere. He opened his mouth to respond when –

Something beeped.

A breeze tickled against the back of his neck.

A faint wheezing, groaning sound brushed against his ears.

"Doctor -" Jack said with wide eyes, "is that -?"

"Alert! Alert!" The Daleks behind the Emperor screamed. "The Doctor's TARDIS!"

The Doctor turned on his heels and stared in horror and disbelief. " _No_."

The TARDIS materialised before him and panic washed through him. It was impossible for his ship to return. Rose couldn't fly it, which meant that Zoe - but no. She wouldn't. She understood the danger the Daleks posed. She knew what would happen if they got their hands on the last TARDIS in existence. Confusion flew through him before a strong wave of energy pushed out from his ship, knocking him from his feet, and the Daleks started screaming in agony.

The noise was overwhelming and hideous. He cringed away from it and raised his hands to cover his ears, curling where he had fallen to try and protect himself from it. The station vibrated beneath him as the Daleks died screaming. Grimacing against the pain, the Doctor pushed himself to his knees, hands clamped firmly over his ears, and he tried to see everything that was happening all at once. The Daleks were twitching and shaking, horrible screams pulling from them, liquid seeping out of their protective casing. Above him, on the screen, the Emperor cried as its fleshy body convulsed in agony. Long tendrils twitched and lashed out as something leaked from its solitary bloodshot eye. The screams and the dying lasted for what felt like a lifetime before the Emperor gave one last twitching scream; it fell still and all strength drained from its mutated body as its corpse settled in its chair.

Silence fell over the station. Jack cautiously lowered his hands from his ears and looked pale and frightened. The Doctor breathed heavily, confused as to what had just happened.

"Er - Doctor?" Jack asked uncertainly, eyes darting around the room he was in, checking on the people with him. "What the hell was that?"

"I have no -" The TARDIS doors opened and Zoe stepped out. "Zoe?"

Zoe paused just outside the TARDIS and stared at him, eyes wide and focused, one hand holding onto the door frame as she drank him in. He was confused. She looked good – _healthy –_ but the last time he had seen her she was fragile and gaunt. Her white scrubs seemed an unusual fashion choice for someone who preferred jeans and a T-shirt, but he was happy, and confused, to see her.

"Zoe?" Jack asked, craning his neck as though he could peer around the edge of the camera to see his friend. "Did you say Zoe?"

"What - _what?"_ The Doctor asked, unable to find his words.

He was still kneeling so he picked himself up and made to move towards her. His limbs felt as though they belonged to someone else as they weren't doing what he wanted them to do, which was to reach out for her and gather her close. She met him halfway and tilted her face up to look at him. There was an expression he couldn't read there, and he opened his mouth to say her name again when she touched her hand to his chest and something cracked within her.

"You're alive," Zoe breathed, body shuddering. "You're actually alive."

"Of course I am," he said, covering her hand with his. "What – _how_?"

A wet laugh burbled out of her. "That's a long story. Where's Jack?"

"I'm here!" Jack called from the screen, and Zoe pulled her hand back from the Doctor and move around him, leaving him bereft so that she could speak with Jack. "Zoe Tyler, am I glad to see you!"

"Jack," she smiled beautifully, her entire face transforming with delight with and relief. "Oh, god, it's good to see you again. I've been worried sick about the both of you. Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm fine," he said with a small laugh. "A little confused, but otherwise fine. What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you two heroes," she said, and whilst her mouth said heroes, her tone said _idiots_. "Can you get back here from wherever you are?"

"Absolutely."

"Then haul ass," she told him. "We're leaving soon, and I want everyone onboard."

"Copy that, boss," he grinned, pleased. "Be there in five."

Jack blinked from the screen leaving only blackness behind. Zoe remained where she was, staring at the screen for a moment before she turned and looked back at the Doctor. He watched as her eyes flicked over him, cataloguing whatever changes clung to him. He did the same to her, and a swooping sensation of foreboding passed through him. It had been longer than a day for her; her improved health told him that.

"How long?" He asked her quietly, and she tilted her head to one side, acknowledging his observations.

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah," he said, "it matters."

She moved her jaw. "Four years."

"Rassilon..." he breathed, eyes closing as he absorbed the impact. "Zoe –"

"We have a lot to talk about," Zoe interrupted him, voice quiet but firm. "Now's not the time though. And I rather do it privately."

"Right," the Doctor said, swallowing. "Of course. Are you – are you okay?"

"Yeah, Doctor," she smiled at him. "I'm okay."

He examined her smile and a knot of tension eased in his chest. It was an honest smile that told him she really was okay. Whatever had happened to her, whatever she had done, she was okay with it.

"You look good," he told her. "Healthy."

"I am," she reassured him. "It took a while, two and a bit years, but I'm back to normal again. Better than in fact – I've taken up running."

"Running?"

"I do marathons now and everything," she said, and he looked so bewildered that she laughed. "It's fun. You should try it sometime."

"I'd rather not," he replied, and she looked at him with such fondness that he gave into his desire to reach out for her. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"I don't know yet," he said, brushing some stray hair from her face. She leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering, and he stroked his thumb across her cheek. "But I know I need to apologise for what I've put you through."

"It was worth it," Zoe said, voice hitching on a whisper. Her hand rested on the soft jumper covering his chest. Her fingers twitched as though she wanted to grip hold of him. "Everything I've done, it was worth it to be here right now with you."

"Zoe –" he said again, and she lifted herself up onto her toes so that they were more or less eye level.

"I've had four years to think about that conversation we had," she told him, and his mouth went dry. "And I –"

"Zoe!" Jack exclaimed, bursting through the doors, and Zoe was away from him in an instant, leaving the Doctor grasping for her presence and desperate to know the end of that sentence. He watched as Jack swept Zoe up into a hug so enthusiastic that she was lifted from her feet and twirled in a circle, her laughter filling the room. "You are amazing! I don't know how you pulled this off, but you're amazing. Now and always. We don't tell you that often enough. Ah-may-zing!"

He finished off with a loud kiss against the top of her nose, and she squirmed in his arms, happy and laughing.

"What happened?" Jack asked, holding Zoe to him by draping his arms around her, keeping her back against his chest. She seemed content in his arms. "Where are the Daleks?"

"Dead, I should think," Zoe answered, eyes sweeping the room and she paused, looking at the image on the screen. Her face fluctuated between horror, disgust, and satisfaction. "What on earth is that?"

"That would be the Emperor of the Daleks," the Doctor answered, hands going into his pockets to stop himself pulling her out of Jack's arms and back into his. He desperately wanted to hear the rest of what she had to say before Jack interrupted them. "It's definitely dead."

"The Emperor?" She asked, confused. "I wasn't aware there was a power disparity in their society."

He almost laughed, amused that she would focus on such a detail when it was the least important thing to discuss.

"Why is it so big?" She continued, curious.

"Radiation."

"Oh," she said. "Right. Rose mentioned something about a lot of ships? Where are they?"

"Out there somewhere," the Doctor replied, nodding in the general direction of space. "I imagine most are in orbit of Earth now. We still have to deal with them."

"Only the ships," she replied, kissing Jack's hand before releasing herself from his hold. "Anything with Dalek DNA died just like the Emperor. I've got something that will access the Dalek computer system and set their ships to self-destruct. It'll go quicker if you help me?"

"Of course," he said automatically. "But what actually happened just now?"

"I built a Delta Wave generator," Zoe explained, entering the station's system easily. He accessed the Daleks' computer whilst Jack leaned against a console and watched them. "And activated it as soon as I landed. I used the TARDIS to boost its power and range, so all the Daleks on the ships should also be dead. If they're not, then I'm sure the self-destruct will help them along."

"You built a Delta Wave generator?" Jack asked, impressed. "How?"

"With great difficulty," she said. "It took me nearly three years to get to grips with the actual science. The building it was actually the easy part."

"I'm sorry," he said, blinking in surprise. "Did you say three years?"

"It's been four years for me this time," she said with an apologetic smile. "But it was necessary. I needed to find a way to save you two, and so I took the time. It's only been three months for Rose though, who, by the way, is absolutely furious with you, Doctor. She did not appreciate being sent away, so enjoy that reunion."

"Great, yep, will do," the Doctor replied whilst Jack processed the time difference between him and Zoe. "You have a back door into the system."

"Brilliant," she said and pulled her phone out from the waistband of her scrubs. She transferred a programme over from it to the computer and fed it into the Daleks' systems. "Et voilà. C'est fini."

"What is that?" He asked as a sophisticated code rolled across the screen.

"I call it the Doctor in Distress program," she said, and he looked at her, baffled. "Get it? Because you're in distress? And it's a play on damsel in distress?"

"I get it, Zo," he said, and she snorted softly. "What I don't get is everything else. How did you know how to build a Delta Wave generator? Why has it been four years? What made you come back?"

"One, I learned what I needed to in order to build the generator," she said, holding up a finger with each point. "Two, it's been four years because I went to university to learn said things. And three, I love you both. How could I leave you here without doing something to try and help you?"

Jack was at her side again, his arms around her, face in her hair. "I love you too. And I'm so glad you came for us. I thought it was the end, to be honest."

"Nah," she turned her face into his and smiled, their noses touching. "Not whilst I'm around. I've got you covered."

"Yes, you do," he said, and kissed her. The Doctor twitched forwards to pull them apart, but it was over before it started. "So what next?"

"I've set a timer on the self-destruct," Zoe explained. She checked the timer on her phone. "We have two minutes and then _boom._ No more Dalek ships. No way for the humans of this time to do something stupid like backwards engineer their technology. Nice and clean. Well -" she glanced up at the Emperor and frowned, "metaphorically speaking."

"Well, alright then," Jack said happily, looking to the Doctor. "Since Zo's taken care of everything, is it back to the TARDIS?"

"TARDIS and then London," she said, slipping out from Jack's arm and pressing a button on the keyboard to erase their presence there. Questions would be asked about what had happened but there was no sense in leaving information that would just raise more questions. "We're in time for Christmas. Everyone will be so happy to see you both. They've all been worried sick about you."

"Christmas?" Jack repeated, excitement rising. "I've never celebrated Christmas before."

"Then you're in for a treat," she told him. "A Tyler-family Christmas is always fun and you two are honorary Tylers now, so let's get moving. It's been a while since I've been home, and I want to see my family again."

"Christmas," Jack laughed as he moved towards the TARDIS. "This day hasn't turned out at all like I expected, but I'm loving it!"

Zoe smiled, eyes crinkling, as Jack disappeared into the TARDIS. She looked back at the Doctor and her smile softened but remained. "What do you say? Christmas with my mum?"

"Of course," he said, unable to muster up the energy to be anything other than sincere. "Can we – when can we talk?"

"Soon, I promise," she said. "But I'd rather we not be interrupted for it. Let everyone fuss over you and Jack, and I'll find you."

His eyes moved over her. "How old are you now?"

"Twenty-nine," she said. "Thirty in a couple of months."

"You were seventeen when we met," he said heavily.

"Save your guilt for something that matters," Zoe said, and she held her hand out for him. Her entire body relaxed when he took hold of it. "It was worth it to make sure that you and Jack are okay. I mean that."

"Of course you do," he said softly. "You've always been a fool for other people."

"Says the pot to the kettle," she said, squeezing his hand, and she led him back to his TARDIS.

* * *

 _December 23rd, 2006_

 _Powell Estate, London_

Rose huddled closer in her thick coat, hands buried in her pockets, as she shivered on the bench in the courtyard of the estate. Jackie and Mickey had both begged off waiting with her, preferring the warmth of the flat to the ice-cold bitterness of the outside, but Rose was eager to see her sister again. She had thought about it and decided that she definitely wanted to get away from Earth for a while. She was eager for anything to break up the monotony of her life, but she did feel a little guilty as she knew that it meant Zoe would stop working and studying for a few days or weeks whilst they had fun and relaxed, but she was sure her sister needed it as much as she did. Zoe had the tendency to work herself to hard, which was part of the reason that Jackie made her stay the entire day when she visited and didn't complain when Zoe fell asleep and slept through most of the visit.

Cocktails on the moon sounded as though it would suit both of them perfectly.

She pressed her nose deeper into her scarf and bounced her knee. She wanted to check the time, but she also didn't want to expose her flesh to the elements. She had come out with five minutes to spare, and since Zoe was almost always on time (except for once when she missed the day completely and emerged three days later not knowing that they had been worried sick about her), she tried not to feel impatient. She was working hard on her patience and had suffered through Shareen's mockery about the self-development books she checked out of the library but they appeared to be helping. It was difficult without knowing everything that was happening, and she had to remind herself constantly that she trusted her sister to do what needed to be done. Complaining, as she had been told repeatedly over the last few months, would do very little to help and an awful lot to annoy.

She jiggled her leg and was thinking longingly of the warm flat when she heard it: the sound of the universe.

Rose jumped to her feet, grinning, and she was already at the door of the TARDIS before it had finished materialising. She dug her key out of her pocket and opened it up, rushing inside and breathing out in relief at the warmth.

"Merry Christmas, Zo!" Rose called out with a laugh, shutting the door behind her. "I hope you're hungry because Mum's cookin' for a bloody –"

The words died on her lips, and the colour drained from her face. Zoe's head popped around the time rotor and she smiled, but Rose was focused on the Doctor and Jack who were standing around the console as though they had never left. A sob ripped from her throat, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Merry Christmas," Zoe said, coming forwards. "I got you your make-up thing that you wanted, but I thought you'd like these two as well."

"You did it," Rose whispered, tears hot in her eyes. "Oh my god, you actually did it."

She spread her arms wide and looked ridiculous. "Ta-da!"

"Hey, Rosie," Jack said, and Rose sobbed again before she was running and jumping into his arms, knocking him back and nearly off his feet. His arms came around her and hugged her tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder. "Hey, no need to cry. We're good. We're all good."

"I thought you both were goin' to die!" She exclaimed, releasing him only when her feet touched the ground again. She spun on the Doctor and pointed at him accusingly. "And _you_! You tricked me! You sent me away!"

"I saved you," the Doctor said, making no move towards her, uncertain of his welcome. "We all would have died, but I was able to save you."

"I didn't ask you to do that!"

"You shouldn't have to ask, Rose."

"Oh my god." She stomped her foot, "you're so stupid."

Zoe quickly stepped out of the way as Rose rushed the Doctor. He braced himself for a slap but she slammed herself into him and pressed her face into his chest, sobbing afresh. The Doctor lifted his arms and put them around her, drawing her closer to him, and she curled against him, fingers fisted in his jumper as she cried. It was a better reception that he thought he would get considering how angry Zoe said she was, but it was also worse because she was crying, and he hated it when she cried. He made gentle shushing noises into her hair, and he cradled the back of her head whilst holding her close. He was relieved to see her again. He closed his eyes and relaxed into her tearful embrace.

He heard a sniff and opened his eyes. Zoe rubbed at one of her eyes.

"Shut up," she grumbled, embarrassed. "I've waited four years for the four of us to be back together again. It's a moment."

"Come here," the Doctor said, holding out an arm. "You too, Jack."

It took a little bit of manoeuvring but the Doctor was able to wrap his arms around the three of them and hold them against him. Rose was crushed against his chest, and Jack leaned into his shoulder, breath warm against his collarbone, whilst Zoe closed her eyes on the opposite side and tried not to cry. His throat felt tight with emotion, and he shut his eyes tightly against the tears, grateful to have his three wonderful humans with him. He loved all of his friends equally, but these three were different: each one of them had saved him and helped him in different ways during the dark days after the Time War.

"Let's never be separated again," Rose said when she stopped her flow of tears. She sounded muffled and stuffy from crying. "All of us. We need to stick together, because everything's awful when we're apart."

"I'm all for that," Jack agreed, his arm around Rose's back and head resting on the Doctor's shoulder. "I didn't like not having Zoe with us through everything."

Rose nodded. "And I didn't like being here whilst you were there."

"Well, I wasn't exactly having a whale of a time where I was," Zoe said, half-amused and with a roll of her eyes. "I wanted to be with you lot more than anything, as annoying as you all are – hey!"

Rose grinned at her, face puffy, and she retracted her hand from her sister's pinched hip. "Doctor?"

"What would I do without you three?" He asked, impossibly fond. "I love you all very much, even if you are annoying like Zoe says – ow! Did you bite me?"

"Might have done," Rose said, unashamed. "Least you deserve for sending me away."

"You would have died!"

"Oh, bloody moment's over," Zoe groused, pulling away, a small smile on her lips. "That didn't last long." She coughed and grimaced. "Where's Mum and Mickey?"

"Up in the flat," Rose answered. "They didn't want to wait in the cold."

"Did I get the right date?" She asked curiously. "I was aiming for December 23rd."

"You're on time," she promised. "It's just after ten, like always."

"I'm getting pretty good at this," Zoe said proudly, tapping the Doctor on the arm with an easy grin. "Come on, let's head up so that Mum and Mickey can fuss over you and/or shout at you."

The Doctor appeared reluctant. "How likely is the shouting?"

As it turned out, there was no shouting.

Zoe walked into the flat first and was welcomed home warmly before she jerked her thumb back over her shoulder and the flat exploded with relief and excitement. She excused herself from the happy chaos so that she could change out of the scrubs that did little to protect her from the cold. The happy, joyous voices of her family filled the flat as she stripped herself and removed the sandals before finding the most comfortable pair of clothes she could in Rose's drawers. She sat down on the edge of the bed and felt the world swoop around her, exhaustion catching up to her. She hadn't slept properly, worried as she was about her thesis defence; her nerves had taken her by surprise and forced her to get up and go over her presentation again and again until the words blurred. She had intended to have a nap after the meeting but events unfolded quickly and with everything that took place, she was tired.

She glanced to the closed door of the bedroom, a burst of laughter coming through, and she decided that they would be fine without her for a time. A soft groan left her as she lay back on the bed, her body relaxing into the mattress and duvet, and she rested her hands on her stomach. Slowly, she blinked at the ceiling and fell asleep to thoughts of the Corsair, Massachusetts, and the dead emperor.

When she woke, the room was dark and warm. She felt Rose behind her and turned slowly in the bed to peer through the darkness. Rose and Jack were there, lying on their sides: Rose's back against Jack's chest, his arm over her waist, both of them fast asleep. She looked at them, memorising their faces, and she was tempted to move in closer so that she could fall back to sleep in their warmth but she was hungry. Her stomach was gnawing at her, and she carefully peeled herself out of bed. Jack was the lightest of sleepers, but he didn't so much as twitch as she removed herself and quietly padded out into the living room. The Doctor wasn't there, not that his absence concerned her. She suspected he was in the TARDIS going through her systems and making sure that everything was all right after four years.

She drank a large glass of water slowly before eating the last banana and finding some crackers in the cupboard that was overflowing with food for Christmas. The banana helped ease some of the hunger within her, and she found a pair of her old trainers and pulled on Rose's coat before she left the flat. The TARDIS contained both the Doctor and a wider selection of food that she would be able to eat on a sensitive stomach, though she knew she probably needed to drink the awful liquid again before eating anything else. She wasn't eager to throw up food just after eating it.

The cold was biting when she stepped out of the flat. December was always cold in London and in Massachusetts, but she tended to spend the winter holidays somewhere warm and sunny – last winter break, she had spent her time off on Mars in the 54th century. Snow, cold, and icy breath in December only served to remind her sharply of winters with Reinette and whilst the ache had eased, she didn't like the heavy nostalgia that rolled around once a year. She hurried across the courtyard towards the TARDIS, who greeted her with an affectionate bump in the back of her mind.

"Hey, gorgeous," Zoe greeted softly, stepping inside. "Where's our guy at?"

A light flashed, and she followed it through to the kitchen. The Doctor was sat at the table with the Delta Wave generator in front of him and a cup of tea at his side. She abruptly remembered that she needed to call Alistair and tell him to stand UNIT down and pass the information on that the Doctor was back and in one piece. She would do it tomorrow since there was no sense in waking him up early in the morning unless it was for an actual emergency. She stood in the doorway and watch the Doctor turn the generator over in his hands, murmuring to himself in Gallifreyan, fingers tracing the lines of it.

"Looking for flaws?" She asked, and he jumped. She smiled at him. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"You're awake," he said, pleased. His entire focus shifted to her, and she was suddenly conscious that she was dressed in a pair of leggings and a ratty T-shirt with holes under the armpits. It was a strange feeling since he had seen her looking worse before. "I went looking for you when you didn't come back earlier and found you sleeping. I didn't realise you were so tired. I hope you haven't been working yourself too hard."

"It's just the end of the academic year," she said with a small shrug. "I had my thesis defence yesterday and I didn't sleep well before it. So when I got the the information I needed to get to you and Jack, I just went for it. It's been a while since I'd slept, that's all."

"Your thesis defence?" He repeated, eyes bright with soft pride. "I'd love to hear about it. I want to hear everything that I've missed."

"I suppose we're old hands at this now," Zoe said, trying for lightness and failing only slightly. "You catching up on my life after I've been out of Time for a bit."

"You didn't get married again, did you?" The Doctor asked before wincing at how dismissive that sounded of Reinette. "I'm sorry, that was awful. I didn't mean –"

Her warm laugh interrupted him.

"No, Doctor," she smiled patiently. "I didn't get married again. It's just been me and the TARDIS for the last four years. Truth be told, I've been a little bit lonely."

"I'm so sorry," he said, holding out his hand for her. She finally moved forward and took it. He looked warm and soft in only his jumper and trousers, the sleeves rolled up. She rested her hip against the table instead of doing what she wanted, which was to curl up in his lap. "This should never have fallen to you."

"Who else should it have gone to?" She asked him. "Stop making my decisions all about you."

His forehead twitched in the shape of a frown. "You did it to save me."

"And Jack, and all of humanity," she drawled with a hint of an American accent, drawing a self-deprecating laugh from him. "See? It's not all about you, Time Lord."

"I stand corrected."

Zoe reached out and touched his cheek lightly. He leaned into her touch, and a soft sigh slipped from between her lips. Her thumb touched the corner of his mouth and her eyes swept over him, hungrily taking him in. The stubble on his jaw scratched softly against her palm, and she could feel the beat of her hearts through the tips of her fingers that rested beneath his ears. There was so much she wanted to say to him but what came out was –

"I don't suppose you could help me find something, could you?"

"What?" He asked quietly, enjoying the touch of her hand against his skin.

"Well, my phone first of all," she said, realising she didn't know where it was. His hand stretched out and picked it up from the table, having borrowed it to examine the _Doctor in Distress_ programme. She pulled her hand back from his face and opened her pictures. She showed him the one that the Corsair took. "I need your help to find this in the sickbay. Gallifreyan is just unnecessarily confusing, and it's going to take me a long time without your help."

Concern gripped his face. "Why do you need this?"

"I had some pretty severe radiation poisoning earlier," she said with a grimace. "And I was told to drink a second one of these. I just want to get it out the way so that I can eat a proper meal again. I'm on the verge of eating my own arm I'm so hungry."

"Why did you have radiation poisoning?" The Doctor asked, concern building.

"Let me drink this concoction of death," Zoe requested, "and I'll tell you about it to distract me from the after taste."

The Doctor agreed after a moment's hesitation and stood from the table. He slipped his hand into hers, sliding their fingers together, relieved that she didn't pull away. He wanted to stay in as close contact with her as she would allow until the sharp, pressing need to be around her faded from his system. He needed to reassure himself that she was fine, and the revelation that she had suffered radiation poisoning did absolutely nothing to assure him of that fact, even if she appeared relaxed about it. He made her sit down on the medical bed, her fingers stretching out to pull the knitted blanket onto her lap with a small smile, and he searched for the drink that she needed. He held his breath when he poured it into a glass for her and mixed it up to get rid of the chunks before extending it to her.

"Oh god," she groaned, already pained. "That last time I did this I sweated everything out, and it was unimaginably awful."

"If you've already had one of these and gone through the proper decontamination process, then this will be just like a normal drink," the Doctor said, and she looked sceptical. "It's still going to taste awful, and it might make you pee more than normal, but you shouldn't experience what you did the first time."

"Well..." she said doubtfully. "Silver lining to every cloud, I suppose. Chin-chin."

The Doctor watched with morbid fascination as she drank the whole thing down without pausing. It was obviously repulsive to her but she didn't pause or hesitate. It took her thirty-two seconds before she was done, and she thrust the glass away from her so that she could quickly press her fist to her mouth. There was a moment where he thought she was going to bring it back up but she persevered.

"Never again," Zoe declared once she could breathe again. "Absolutely never, _ever_ again."

"I'm sure that wasn't pleasant," he said, putting the glass in the sink. "Now, how did you get radiation poisoning?"

"You're not going to like my answer," she warned him. "In fact, I imagine you're going to be quite cross."

His face fell. "What did you do?"

"I needed a delta wave from a Dalek," Zoe began, "so as not to fry the brains of everyone and anyone. I could only think of three places to get one: Van Statten's bunker, but I dismissed that because I didn't want to wake it up earlier than we did; two, the 22nd century when you and Susan were there, but I couldn't risk that either because I didn't know what would happen if I ran into you two."

He nodded, her reasoning seemed sound.

"Which left door number three," she said, watching him carefully. "Skaro."

Every particle of his body froze.

"Zoe," the Doctor said slowly, "please tell me you did not do something as monumentally stupid as go to Skaro. You shouldn't even be able to get to Skaro because of the Time Lock, so I'm hoping there's an option four you're saving for a dramatic reveal."

"You're about to be disappointed then," she admitted, and bright fear flared through him. "It was the only place I could be certain to get a delta wave without fucking up the timelines too badly."

"Without –? Rassilon, _Zoe,_ " he exclaimed. "I don't – how did you – what sort of foolish –?"

She shook her head with an annoyed sigh. "I'm doing this wrong. I'm starting at the end of everything when I need to start at the beginning. Can you swallow back whatever it is you're feeling right now long enough to listen to me without going all Doctor on me?"

"What does that even mean?" He asked, exasperated.

"You know exactly what it means," she said pointedly. "And just as a head's up, I'm not going to accept any criticism or judgement from you because I did what I had to do to fix this. So you can listen without interrupting, or we can have a massive fight every time I tell you something I did that you don't agree with and we can both be miserable for days. What would you rather?"

"I'd rather we didn't fight," he said. "Obviously."

"Then let's move this somewhere more comfortable," she suggested, removing the blanket from her lap. "And I'll tell you everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything," she promised, legs swinging gently over the edge of the bed.

"Okay," the Doctor agreed. "And I promise I'll listen without being an ass."

"See," Zoe smiled, "you do know what it means."

He huffed out a laugh and shook his head. She smiled at him and took his offered hand again as she stood on her feet. Before she could lead him from the room, he tugged her against his chest and held her there, hugging her as he had wanted to do from the moment he saw her.

"I'm positive," he said quietly to her, "that whatever you did, you did it with the best of intentions."

Zoe swallowed, eyes hot, and she nodded, before they released each other and made their way back to the kitchen where they got settled in, and Zoe started her story from the beginning whilst the Doctor listened with quiet attentiveness.


	60. Chapter 60

**Rated M**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty**

Zoe picked at the remnants of her meal of crushed boiled potatoes drizzled in olive oil and sprinkled in salt. The Doctor had made it for her as her recounting of her time away from him unfolded slowly and across the hours. He assured her it was bland enough for her stomach to handle and she continued telling him her story, from her search for materials on Tiaanamat to confiscating the Time Lord technology on Fluren's World, in between bites that slowly filled her stomach. She felt better with food inside her, and there was a cup of ginger tea next to her; she felt that she was thinking clearly clearly again, which was needed when she got to the end of her story. The Doctor sat back in his chair, an ankle resting on his knee, as he listened in silence whilst she detailed the dangerous mission that took her to Skaro and the dangers she and the Corsair encountered there.

He was perfectly silent, verbally and physically, and his eyes were unreadable when she told him about finally reaching the Corsair's TARDIS and the severe radiation poisoning that pulsed through her body. She skimmed lightly over the details of how sick she had been, certain he knew what she had gone through, and ended her story with her landing on the Game Station.

"And the rest you know," Zoe said, setting her fork down and brushing her hair from her eyes. "So that's what I've been up to since we last saw each other."

The Doctor raised his hands to his face and rubbed slowly, pulling his skin down before releasing a long, low exhale of breath.

"I have no idea what to say to that," he admitted. There were so many places he wanted to start and a number of different things he wanted to say, but none of it was worth anything. She had done what she felt she had to do. He couldn't fault her for that. "You never choose the easy option, do you?"

"What was the easy option?" She asked him. "Please, tell me, because I couldn't see any other way."

"The easy option would have been to do nothing," he told her, but even as he said it he knew that she would never have done that. She scoffed and opened her mouth. He beat her to it with a hand raised to quell her protestations. "I know, I know. You couldn't do it any more than I could have left the Daleks to do what they planned."

"I did the best I could," Zoe said, and his eyes softened in the corners.

He leaned forward and took her hand within his. "I've never doubted that, and I never will. I'm just...it's a lot to take in. So much has happened that it's just – you need to give me a second, here."

"Take your time," she said, squeezing his hand lightly and picking up her ginger tea, sipping it slowly.

She felt so much better with food in her stomach and the weight of the last four years off her shoulders. It was only just now hitting her the scale of what she had done and achieved. The Doctor and Jack were safe – Jack was in the flat sleeping curled around Rose, and the Doctor was in front of her processing everything. She hadn't dared allow herself to properly dream her triumph, and it felt like a dream. Tracing her eyes over his face and straining for the whiff of faint leather that she associated with him, she couldn't stop staring at him. She had had the pictures on her phone but it was so much better to have him the flesh before her; his hand warm and real against hers. Her thumb toyed with his knuckles, moving the thin skin back and forth across it.

"All I can think about," the Doctor said, drawing her attention back to their conversation and off the planes of his face, "is what would have happened if the Daleks had captured you. That was too close, Zoe. If you hadn't thought quickly, both you and the Corsair would have been captured. Your knowledge of the future would have been devastating."

"I know," she said simply. "And if the Corsair had been so inclined, the Time Lords would have torn my mind apart for information about the Time War." He stared at her. "I know that. I knew the risks going in, but they were risks that I thought I could mitigate and that I thought were worth it."

"They would have killed you," he said, emotion turning his voice raw. "Both sides. You would have found no mercy from the Time Lords. Not with the information in your head."

"Doctor," she said, "they wouldn't have taken me alive."

He flinched at the cool certainty in her voice. His mind filled with the image of her taking a gun and placing the barrel against her head, surrounded by Daleks and then by Time Lords in their long red robes; her beautiful brain dashed across the floor that her blood soaked. He pulled his hand back from hers and pressed it across his mouth, eyes closed. Her wooden chair scraped across the floor as she shifted closer to him, their knees bumping. She whispered his name, one hand on his thigh and the other on his wrist. He opened his eyes. Though she physically looked the same, her eyes were older, _wiser_ , and he saw the passage of time within them.

"It's okay," she told him quietly. "I'm here. I'm alive."

"You very nearly weren't," he said. "You could have died on Skaro, and I would never have known."

"I left a holographic recording in the TARDIS computers –"

"You think that would have been okay?" He asked incredulously. "Oh, hey, Doctor. Sorry, but I've gone off on a suicide mission to Skaro. Probably, definitely dead now. Thanks for the fun."

"Why not?" She asked sharply, sitting up straighter and removing her hands from him. "That's what you gave me, wasn't it? Emergency Protocol One." Her voice dripped with disdain. "How the hell did you I think felt seeing that? You telling me to go off and have a good life? So yeah, Doctor, you got a hologram, because if it was good enough for me, then it was good enough for you."

"That's not –" he started, floundering. "It's not –"

"The same?" She finished for him, angry. "Tell me how it's different. _Please_. Because the way I see it we were both saying goodbye to people we –"

She cut herself off and scowled at the door behind him. His hearts beat quickly.

"To people we what?" The Doctor asked. "How are you going to finish that sentence?"

"If I had died on Skaro," Zoe began again, forcing herself into calmness. Disappointed seared through him at her shying away from what he wanted to hear. "You wouldn't be here. You would've died not knowing that I was already dead. It's a moot point."

"It's the complete opposite of a moot point," he said. "Your life shouldn't be thrown away on a whim."

"A whim?" She repeated, and her anger built again. "What the hell part of my story made you think that any of this was a _whim_?"

A small thread of patience snapped at how stubbornly blind she was being. "I don't want you to die for me!"

"That is not your choice to make!" She yelled at him, startling them both. She pressed her fist against her chest, and he breathed deeply. Their tempers were frayed and both were fearful of saying something they would regret. When she spoke again, her voice was even once more. "You don't get to decide what I deem worthy to sacrifice myself for. You and Jack are my family. I would do anything to keep you both safe. You don't get to tell me not to do that."

"Zoe –" his frustration was evident in the wetness of his eyes that he wiped at. "You know how I feel about you. You must see what value your life has to me."

"And how can you not see the value that yours has to me?" She asked him, her forehead creased with pain that he put there. "You don't get the monopoly on love between us, Doctor. That's not how it works."

The Doctor rubbed his hand over his face before dropping it into the table next to hers, their fingers not quite touching. He tried to find the right words within him, but Zoe had the ability to render him incoherent with anger, frustration, and panic. He didn't have this problem with anyone else in his life: now or then.

"I need you to be safe," he finally said, meeting her eyes. "The thought of you in danger makes me feel sick, and knowing that you put yourself on Skaro for me –"

"And Jack."

"And Jack," he agreed. "Surely you can see why that bothers me?"

"I can," Zoe said with a small nod. "But that doesn't change the fact that it was my decision to make, and my risks to take. Do you think I wanted to be there? Do you think I wanted to spend the last four years alone? I have been cripplingly lonely. It's hurt in ways that I didn't know existed. The only respite I got were my trips to speak with Yatta, and visits home that I began to space further and further apart because I couldn't bear the way mum was looking at me and Rose's constant nagging. I would have loved to have done nothing. I wish that had been an option for me, but it wasn't. So I made the best of a bad situation and yes, it was dangerous at times, but I did it because it was the right thing to do."

The Doctor let out a low sound of frustration. "Why do you have to be so brave?"

"Why do you?" She shot back, wiping at her face. "There was nothing keeping you on the Game Station except your own sense of what was right and what was wrong."

"Just as your sense took you to Skaro," the Doctor sighed, slumping back in his chair. He pressed his face into one hand, and he could hear her clumsily picking up her tea. His head hurt from their argument. "We're a right pair, aren't we?"

"Like attracts like, I suppose," Zoe shrugged, drinking down her lukewarm ginger tea. She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes and cleared her throat. "Try not to think about the what ifs. I'm here, and I'm fine. As are you and Jack. Everything worked out."

He shook his head, marvelling at the fact that everything really had worked out. "A stroke of luck."

"No," Zoe said sharply, startling him into realising he had put his foot in his mouth. "It wasn't luck. None of it was luck. I worked damned hard to make sure that everything worked out as it did. Have you – were you not listening just now?."

He held up his hands and immediately apologised. "I'm sorry. I absolutely didn't mean to diminish what you've done. It was a bad turn of phrase."

"No," she sighed, shoulders drooping as tension ran out of her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. I've been a little defensive ever since Rose came back without you and Jack. It's felt like I've had to defend my choices to everyone and then keep defending myself because it's taken longer than people would have liked."

The Doctor heard what she wasn't saying. It was troubling that Rose's instinct had been to open up the TARDIS, and that was something he was going to have to think about later because it was horrific enough to require time to process. He suspected that Rose had been less than patient whilst waiting for Zoe to finish what she needed to do. It wasn't something he felt he could talk to her about though, as it was very much an issue for Zoe to handle since it was her relationship with her sister, and the two of them disliked anyone else interfering in the rare fights that took place between them. Sometimes they reminded him of territorial animals when someone interrupted them because they could turn on the spin of a coin, and he would find himself faced with two ferocious beasts facing him rather than fighting with each other.

It was definitely something for Zoe to handle as she saw fit.

"Has there been no one in the last four years?" The Doctor asked her, sympathy for the loneliness that clung to her even though he was there with her. He knew only to well how sharp that emptiness was. "No friends or...someone else?"

A slow smile unfurled on her mouth, and amusement gleamed in her eyes.

"I went out sometimes with the people on my course, but I never let myself get too close to them," she admitted. "I always knew I was leaving, and it was easier in a way. But the more I kept myself apart from them, the harder it was to feel a proper connection with them."

"I understand."

"I did go out one night though," she said, looking away from him with a small frown. "It was about a year ago, I think. It just...everything got to me, and I needed to be out of the TARDIS, so I went to this bar I knew. I was just sitting there and trying to feel not so horribly alone – not that it was working – and this woman struck a conversation with me. Jessica. I remember her name was Jessica. I just – I went home with her, and we were kissing and on her bed when I realised I couldn't do it. My chest felt tight and I could barely breathe. I made some excuse, God knows what, and got out of there."

He gazed at her with soft kindness. "A panic attack?"

"Apparently," she said with a self-deprecating smile. "Yatta seems to be of the opinion that sex is associated with love in my mind, with Reinette, and me attempting a one-night stand triggered something. I haven't bothered trying again. So, to answer your question, there hasn't been _someone else_."

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said. "I know what it's like to feel that lonely. It's not pleasant at all."

"No," she huffed a laugh, "it's really not."

He moved his hand so that it covered hers. She turned her palm up and slid their fingers together, her wedding ring catching the light for a moment.

"What you did," the Doctor began, choosing his words with delicate care, "not everyone could have done that. You saved me and Jack and all of humanity, and you kept the Daleks from getting the TARDIS. So thank you, Zoe. Really. Thank you."

She looked away from him, unable to bear the mixture of emotions in his eyes, and she cleared her throat. "You're welcome."

He smiled though she couldn't see and squeezed her hand. "I guess we'll need to take you back to Massachusetts so you can take your exams. No sense in letting all your hard work go to waste, _professor_."

The laughter that spilled from her was welcome, and the thick pressure of tension in the atmosphere dissolved.

"I'm not even close to being a professor," Zoe told him, eyes sparkling. "I've only done my undergraduate."

"There's plenty of distant learning masters you can take whilst we travel," he said before his brain caught up with his mouth. "I mean – I don't mean to presume – it's just that you're healthy again and – well, if you want –"

"Doctor," she helpfully interrupted him, and he clamped his mouth shut, relieved. "I'd love to travel with you again."

His face lit up as he smiled, hopeful and relieved. "Really?"

"Really really," she grinned, looking like the girl she had been when they first met. "It was always my plan to come back. I've missed travelling with you, and I've really missed how it used to be with the four of us before everything got complicated and painful. I know we can't go back to that, but I want to travel again. Team TARDIS."

"Team TARDIS," he beamed at her. "Jack's going to be thrilled. He's missed you."

"I was gone for all of day from his perspective!"

"He still missed you," the Doctor said with a light shrug. "So did I."

"My boys," she sighed fondly. "What would I do without you?"

"Thanks to your hard work," he said, "you don't have to find out."

"Go me," she said, making him laugh, and the lines around his eyes crinkled, whilst he passed his thumb brushed over her knuckles.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"When you came to the Game Station, and before Jack came and kissed you –" she snorted, faintly amused at his jealousy. "You said that you've had time to think about our last conversation."

Her expression went careful. "I did."

"What was it you were going to tell me?" The Doctor asked, his breath coming a little harder as he put himself onto the edge again, but he needed to know even if it was her telling him that she was certain she just wanted to be friends.

Zoe looked down at their joined hands before back to him. She looked hesitant, and it was on the tip of his tongue to tell her not to worry about it when she started speaking.

"A few days after you left," she said, "I finally read Reinette's letter."

"Oh," he said, not having expected that. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," she smiled softly. "I've had time to come to terms with it. But, in the letter, she helped me think a little more clearly about the future, which I suppose was always her intention. She liked to know what was coming and plan for it. I shouldn't be surprised that my life after her was something she thought about."

"Reinette loved you," the Doctor said. "Of course she thought about helping you after she was gone."

"That's what Yatta said when I spoke to her about it," Zoe said. "And I've spent a lot of time speaking about it with her, and working out all the issues I have with living when she didn't and what that means for my future relationships."

He looked at her, confused. "I don't understand."

"No matter what way we look at it," she said, voice thickening just a little as her emotions got the better of her. "There's a basic fact to me and you that we can't ignore. Our lifespans simply don't match up. Even if I live to a ripe old age for a human, you're still going to outlive me by hundreds, maybe thousands of years. I can easily spend the rest of my life with you, but you can't spend the rest of yours with me."

The Doctor swallowed hard against the truth that she set heavily onto the table between them. It was something he knew, but not something he ever wanted to think about.

"And I needed time to decide if that is something that I could live with," Zoe continued. "Because we've both been in the position of having to bury someone that we loved so completely that it nearly broke us when we lost them. I needed to decide if that was something I could do to you."

He tightened his grip on her hand, feeling the pulse of her single heartbeat in her fingers.

"You tell me that I shouldn't take responsibility for your choices," the Doctor said, thinking as he spoke. "I'd ask that you to do the same for me. This is my choice to make."

"But is that something you can live with?" She asked him seriously, eyes fixed on him as though she would find the answer she wanted in his expression. "Because I go back and forth on it. I'm going to grow old and feeble and maybe lose my mind; but you're going to look young forever. I don't know how that's going to make me feel when I'm eighty-six and living in a nursing home with Rose and Mickey. I don't know if it's going to make me resent you."

It was a valid point, and one that the Doctor hadn't considered before. He knew that he would love Zoe even when she was old and grey, but he hadn't thought about it from her point of view. Would seeing him young and active make her resent him? He didn't like to think it would, but people changed as they got older. Maybe she would. Maybe she wouldn't. It was difficult to tell without living it to find out.

"No one ever knows what the future holds for them, not with any degree of certainty at least," the Doctor said. "I thought my life would be spent on Gallifrey buried in research and coming home to my wife, children, and grandchildren at the end of the day; and you thought you would have a lifetime with Reinette travelling the stars or growing old together in Versailles. Life never unfolds the way we dream it will when we're young, but it does unfold and sometimes those things that we never expected can be the most wonderful experiences of them all."

"But I worry that the price is too high," Zoe said honestly. "Losing Reinette was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I've felt that pain, Doctor. I know how hard it is to survive when you lose the person you love, and I know how that pain spreads out into future days. How can I ask you to open yourself up to that sort of pain?"

"Oh, Zoe," he breathed, drawing her hand to his mouth and kissing her knuckles gently. "It's far too late for that, I'm afraid. It's going to hurt no matter what, and us being together won't change how I feel about you."

"Won't it lessen the pain?"

"No," he said with a soft shake of his head, "because that's not how love works."

She sniffed and used the collar of Rose's shirt to dry her eyes. "I know that. Of course I do."

"You're looking for excuses," the Doctor said, not unkindly. "You want a way out."

"Not a way out." She shook her head. "I just...I feel we both need to know how hard this is going to be. We're not going to ride off into the sunset together, or grow old and die holding each other's hands. This is going to end in heartbreak."

"Maybe," he agreed after a moment's consideration. "But think about this: I'm a selfish old man and I want that time with you."

He surprised a laugh out of her, and a smile found its way onto his face.

"I'm serious," the Doctor said. "I'm a horrible, mean, selfish old man, and I want whatever time you're willing to give me."

"Old you may be," Zoe said with a grin, "but horrible, mean, and selfish you are not."

"I am," he told her. "But you want make me want to be better."

"God knows why," she shook her head, relaxing into acceptance. "I'm a pain in the ass most days. I'm opinionated and stubborn; I hate doing the washing up; I need time alone or I get grumpy; I always think I'm right even when I'm not –"

"You think I don't know this about you?" The Doctor interrupted. "Zo, I've known you for two years now. None of this is a surprise to me, and none of it changes my mind. You know how I feel about you, but let me clear. I love you, Zoe. I want a future with you, however long that may be. I can't offer you what a human could. There'll be no houses and gardens in our future, because that's just not me, and I can't give you children because our two species are too different, even with jiggery-pokery. But I can promise you that I'll love, now and always, and that whatever I have is yours."

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she let them fall.

"I never thought I'd feel this way again," Zoe whispered, her words cracking. "I didn't think I'd be able to love someone after Reinette. But I do. I love you, Doctor. I'm in love with you. I didn't plan it or expect it, but I love you."

"Oh, thank the stars," the Doctor exhaled, relief and happiness spreading through him. "Because I love you. I really do."

She laughed wetly. "I believe you."

His hands gently cupped her face, and he wiped her tears across her skin. Everything felt slightly off-kilter as though he was dreaming, but her skin was warm and alive beneath his touch, and her eyes were bright and vibrant as he looked into them. Up close he could count the freckles across her nose and cheeks, and he wanted to kiss everyone of them. Her hands curled loosely around his wrists, lips parting to whisper his name, and the pulse point in her neck fluttered violently against his fingertips.

"Zoe." Her name was a soft breath of a whisper between them.

"I love you," she whispered, the words filling him up. "I love you."

She closed the gap between them and pressed her mouth against his. The feel of her mouth against his sent a shock of warmth through him, his nerve endings lighting up. It had only been a day and a bit since he last kissed her, but it felt like a lifetime. He lifted his hand to her face and brushed his fingers across her cheek in a feather-light caress before he pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. There were too many emotions fighting for space within him that he needed a moment to breathe and accept that Zoe kissing him was his reality and not his dreams. She was so close that her features where blurred, but she smelt like she always did, though there was also a sharp tang of anti-sceptic that came from her decontamination shower.

"I never thought you would actually love me back," the Doctor admitted in a low murmur that made his voice rumble. "I _hoped_ but this is...are you certain this is what you want?"

"As certain as I am about anything," Zoe replied, her whisper sweeping across his lips. "I've told you my worries, but I'm not afraid because I know that you won't hurt me."

"I won't," he promised instantly, fiercely. "Never."

"So, yes, Doctor, I'm sure," she said. "I want this. I want you."

A small sound left his throat, and he closed the distance between their mouths, kissing her with less control than he would have liked. Her fingers curled against his shoulders and used his jumper to anchor herself as his mouth slanted over hers, tongue licking at her bottom lip, and her mouth opened under his. Her groan trembled through him, their tongues sliding together as electricity sparked off them, heating their blood and making him draw his hand down from her face to her waist. She felt so much stronger than the last time their kissed and that strength made his head spin. He tugged her towards him, her body moving easily at his suggestion, rising above him before she pressed a knee between his legs on the chair and straddled his thigh. His hand rested on her waist; the heat of it burned through the borrowed T-shirt, marking her, and she wanted to feel his hands everywhere.

"We should –" the Doctor pulled back, flushed and breathless. She followed his mouth with hers, but his fingers squeezed her lightly, stopping her. "We should probably wait."

Zoe stared at him, unable to understand. "Why?"

"This is – this is new." He found his words. "And we should probably – er – probably sit with it for a bit."

Her tongue passed over her lips, drawing the taste of him into her mouth; his eyes tracked her movements, dark and hungry. She eased her grip on his jumper, smoothing the small mountains of material she made out, before taking his face in her hands. Her heart thrilled at how openly she could touch him and how intimate it was to hold him like that. He trusted her implicitly, and it made her feel powerful and special.

"If you want to wait because you want to wait, then absolutely, I'm happy to wait," Zoe told him, her chest rising and falling as she tried to control her breathing. "But if you want to wait because you think it's the best thing for me, then we're about to have another disagreement."

He couldn't help but laugh, and her fingers traced the lines around his eyes.

"You just told me that you had a panic attack the last time you tried to have sex with someone," the Doctor pointed out. "I don't want that to happen again."

"I also told you that I need an emotional connection with the people that I take to my bed," she said. "And I'm in love with you –" the smile that stretched across his face was uncontrollable, "so if you'd like me to spell it out for you so there's no confusion, then I will. Doctor, I very much want to have sex with you. Right now if it's a good time for you."

"Zoe –" he said, not sure whether to laugh or press her against the table. "We don't have to."

"I've had a long time to think about this," she told him, "and I'm certain that this is what I want." Her eyes softened. "Is this what you want? Do Time Lords even have sex like humans do?"

He kissed the inside of her wrist. "We do, and of course this is what I want."

"Then let's not wait," she said. "We both know how fragile life can be. I might get trapped in a time loop or something knowing my luck, so I'd really like to do this before the next awful thing happens."

"You do have the worst luck," he agreed, and she laughed, climbing off him and taking his hand.

"Come on," Zoe said with a smile he had never seen on her face before: soft, intimate, _loving_. "I happen to have a very nice bedroom just down the hall."

The Doctor smiled back at her, chest erupting with the faint fluttering of nerves and excitement. He felt like a boy of fifty all over again as she led him into her bedroom, which he knew as well as his own, though there were changes from the last time he was in there. It was bigger with more space for a desk that was covered in books and papers; more books lined the walls with some new paintings; the fairy lights were gone, replaced with candles; and her colour scheme was no longer oranges and reds but rather navy blues and forest greens against a splash of white.

"You've redecorated," the Doctor said, the door shutting behind him. "I like it."

"The TARDIS's choice," Zoe replied with a small shrug. "She's a pretty excellent interior designer."

"I've always thought so."

"But I have to ask," she said, turning back to face him. "Who chose the leopard print console room? You or her?"

He went still. "How do you know about that?"

"The Corsair," she grinned, and he closed his eyes in embarrassment. "It was a bold choice. Rather like the celery."

"I'm begging you to stop," he said through a pained groan. "We all make bad decisions when we're young."

"I really hope there are pictures," she said seriously before her expression cracked and she laughed. "But who am I to judge? When I was nine, I wore a lime green jumpsuit every day for three months. It was the ugliest thing you've ever seen, but I loved it."

His face lit up. "Pictures?"

"If you ask Mum nicely, she'll dig them out."

"This is going to be a great Christmas," he said, and she laughed again before holding out her hand to him. He took it, and she pulled him forwards.

"It really is," Zoe agreed, kissing him again.

He could feel the shape of her smile against his mouth, and it made him happy as his hands went to her waist. There was no awkwardness between them, no uncertain fumbling of hands, and no feelings of foreignness that came with kissing your best friend. Everything felt natural and perfect and easy. The Doctor relished it as she teased his mouth open and held him to her whilst exploring his mouth with her tongue, hot puffs of air from her nose brushing across his cheek. He slid one hand to the small of her back and pressed her closer to him. He bowed his head so that she didn't have to strain to reach him, kissing her back whilst his fingers found her hair and let it slide through his touch.

"I like your hair," he murmured inanely when her inferior human repository system required her to pull back for air. "I've always liked it."

"I know," she said breathlessly, a smile quirking her lips. "You look at it as though you want to play with it as times."

"There are just so many curls," he said, pleased to be able to touch it and run his fingers through it. "It's really quite lovely."

She kissed his jaw and gently scraped her teeth against his chin, making him shiver. She stepped back from him; he watched her, forlorn, before his breath came harder when she reached for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it off over her head. His mind short-circuited because she wasn't wearing a bra. It wasn't as though he hadn't noticed her breasts before. Of course he had. There was that night in pre-revolutionary Russia where she'd worn a corset and he hit Rasputin over the head with her book. When they were back in the TARDIS and laughing about how ridiculous the whole situation was, he had been distracted by how her breasts looked in her dress.

"I –" he started uselessly, the words stilling in his throat, because she continued taking her clothes off. His mind went blank when she stood before him naked, all lean muscle and soft skin and breasts that he wanted to put his mouth to. "You're naked."

"I am," Zoe agreed, amused.

There had been a thought that she might feel self-conscious in front of him but it felt normal and easy to be naked before his gaze. The amount of trust she placed in him would have terrified her if he was anyone else, but there were years of friendship between them. It was exciting to build upon that foundation, which was solid and unbreakable, and now that she had decided she wanted him as he wanted her, she was eager to see what the future held for them.

"I – you're – Rassilon, you're beautiful," the Doctor said, stumbling over his words. "I mean, I've always thought it. Even when you were threatening to push me off a building and yelling at me. You're just – you're so beautiful."

"Doctor –" it was difficult to speak when he was so earnest. "Either take of your clothes or come over here and touch me."

The Doctor didn't hesitate. He strode forward and wrapped his arms around her naked body, pulling her against him as he kissed her. He was less careful with her, his kiss biting and hot, his tongue sliding wetly into her mouth and one hand in her hair to angle her head. She groaned into it, and her hands scrambled at him, trying to get purchase whilst he kissed her thoroughly and completely. She found the bottom of his jumper and pushed it up his chest, forcing him to break off from her so that she could pull it over his head. He tended not to wear T-shirts beneath his jumpers so her hands immediately spread themselves across his pale chest, dragging her fingernails through his dark, greying chest hair. He groaned and found a soft spot beneath her ear that made her whole body twitch and shiver when he pressed his mouth to it, laving it with his tongue.

Her hand took his and drew it to her breast. His tongue stilled against her skin, and the feel of her warm, soft breast filling his hand made the world slow and stop for a moment. She turned her face into his and dragged her teeth down the length of his neck; nerve endings erupted into fire, and his hips twitched forward into hers as a strangled moan rumbled against her skin, his hand flexing against her breast. Her breath was warm and delicious on his skin as she pressed her weight onto one foot and turned them both. She gave him a gentle shove and he fell back onto her bed, catching himself on his elbows. Her eyes swept over him, taking him in.

"You need to take off your clothes," Zoe said, crouching to pull at his boots. "Quickly, please."

His hands shook slightly when he attacked his belt buckle. She had already removed one of his boots by the time he remembered how to work the metal. He unzipped his trousers just in time for her to grab the legs and pulled them down. He kicked them off the rest of the way, letting them land somewhere near the edge of the bed, leaving him only in his boxers that did nothing to hide his growing arousal. Zoe leaned over him. He was abruptly reminded of a jaguar, sleek and smooth, as she crawled up his body to bracket him against her bed with her arms and legs. He could feel the heat from her body radiated out against his.

"You're lovely," she told him quietly, eyes catching his. "I know your lot never put much stock in physical appearance but I think you're gorgeous."

It shouldn't make his skin flush with colour, but it did. She was right in the fact that Time Lords considered a focus on physical appearance to be the sign of a deficient character, but it pleased him to know that the woman he loved found him attractive.

She kissed him again and it was different. There was so much naked skin between them that it felt as though he was on fire. He drew one hand down her back to curve around her bottom, enjoying the softness of her skin, and he flipped them. Zoe let out a sound of surprise beneath him, blinking at the change in orientation, but she had only a moment to adjust before he was kissing her, wet and hot, lying between her legs. Her breath came harder to her as he transferred his attentions to her neck, unerringly finding every spot that made her shiver and twitch, the slickness between her legs intensifying. She tried to rub her thighs together but his body made it impossible to do that.

"Doctor –" she gasped his name out. "I need –"

"I've got you," he rumbled against her skin, and she cried out when his mouth covered a breast and tongue pressed her nipple, teasing.

It was _wonderful,_ and she arched her chest up into his mouth to get more if it. Her hand rested on the back of his head whilst she gripped her shoulders. His mouth was warm and lovely, and it had been such a long time since she had been with anyone that her body was crying out to be touched and loved. The Doctor focused on one breast until she thought she would come from that alone when he switched his attention to the other, making her squirm against him. Despite the heat and urgency that erupted between them, he seemed determined to take things at his own pace and no amount of urging and desperate, gasping pleas were incentive enough to hurry him along.

"You're the devil," she accused with one arm thrown across her eyes as though the darkness would help her handle what he was doing to her. "You're the actual devil."

He grinned around his mouthful of her breast and gave her a cheeky nip that made her hips try and find his, but he finally moved down her body. She sighed with relief and disappointed, caressing his head as he kissed across her flat stomach. He let his fingers trace over the faint definition of muscles that lingered there, a consequence of the boxing and the Krav Maga, and she remembered that she could flip him if she wanted. Now that the sharp edge of pleasure had faded into a more manageable throb though, she was inclined to let him do what as he pleased. He paused over a scar on her abdomen that was darker than the rest of her skin. He traced it with his finger and looked up.

"What's this?" He asked curiously, running his finger back and forth over it.

"Got it when I was little," Zoe said, trying to think but it was hard when his breath was warm against her and pleasure pricked insistently at nerve endings. "I – er – I had an accident when I was six, I think. The metal ladder in the local pool was broken; it stabbed me when I fell into the water. Had to get six stitches."

"Did it hurt?"

"Not really," she said. "But I think I was in shock. There was apparently a lot of blood."

He pressed a kiss to it before returning his attention to driving her slowly insane. The wet heat of his tongue against her hipbone made her groan and fist her hand into the duvet beneath her, trying to seek some friction to find relief.

"Will you please stop teasing me?" Zoe demanded. "I want you inside of me."

He kissed her hip with a grin she felt against her skin. "Patience."

She gave a strangled scream and opened her mouth to tell him exactly where he could shove his patience when he pushed himself all the way down her body. He slid off the bed to fall to his knees before it, and Zoe caught a glimpse of his head between her thighs, her brain not processing quickly enough, before –

"Fuck!"

His tongue fluttered against her opening, tracing up her slick lips to her clit, and her brain stopped working when the sudden pressure where she needed it the most appeared. Pleasure swamped her; she couldn't breathe properly. It had been _years_ since she had had any sort of orgasm that wasn't created by her own hand, and his tongue was as skilled as she once joked it would be. He moaned against her, the sound shooting pleasure up her spine and down to her toes, her hands searching desperately for something to grab onto. She sank them into the duvet and gripped tightly, the muscles in her arms straining, as his mouth opened against her and he worked a rhythm over her. Her world narrowed to the point between her legs where her slickness met his mouth. She opened her mouth to say something, encouragement or just more urgent pleas, but nothing came out except for his name tripping out on a ragged moan.

"Jesus," Zoe gasped when his long, beautiful fingers pressed inside her and her muscles clamped down, spiralling her closer and closer to the orgasm that she desperately needed. "Doctor, please, I –"

It was a sensory overload when she finally came, his fingers twisting and hooking at that gorgeous spot inside of her. She cried out, loud and shameless, as the whole room flashed and her universe broke apart like a floodgate. Her orgasm ripped through her, the tension in her body exploding, shooting out to her fingertips and toes, her scalp prickling with it. All of her muscles pulled tight as the pleasure dragged her under into the dark place that burst with light where nothing existed but her pleasure. The Doctor kept going, his fingers moving inside her, his mouth moving on her, stretching her orgasm out like soft toffee until she collapsed back, body relaxed, tears on her face from the force of it all.

"Stop, please," she said weakly, her voice rough from crying out. He eased his fingers out of her and rested his cheek against the inside of her thigh whilst he put his fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. She groaned at the image, slamming her eyes shut. "God. Are you trying to kill me?"

"Good, was it?" He asked pleasantly.

 _Smug bastard_ flashed through her pleasure-drenched mind.

She aimed a weak kick at him, and he laughed, kissing her sticky inner thigh with such fondness that she wanted to cry.

"Get up here," she ordered.

The Doctor stood, shedding his boxers finally, and her eyes swept over all of him for the first time. The well of her desire started to fill again, surprising her with how soon she wanted more. Normally she needed a little time to relax and breathe before she was ready to go again. She opened her arms for him and delighted in the long press of his body against hers, finding his mouth to kiss the taste of her out of it. He groaned into it, twitching against her, seeking friction for his cock against her skin. Their kiss was careless and lazy and she loved everything about it. She pressed her feet against her bed and pushed, taking him by surprise. He fell onto his back, looking up at her, startled, but his eyes darkened and his mouth opened when she swung her legs over his hips.

"I should have asked before," Zoe said, trying to sound normal but even to her ears she sounded wrecked. "Do we need protection?"

"Pro –?" His mind shifted gears. "No. You can't get pregnant with me and – and any viruses or diseases would show up when we entered the TARDIS."

"Good," she breathed, shifting so that she trapped his cock against his stomach; she rolled her hips against him, drenching him with her arousal. He swore in his native language and grabbed her hip, stilling her. "What's the refractory period like for a Time Lord?"

"Let's not test it just yet," the Doctor suggested, voice tight, and she smirked down at him.

"Really?" She asked lightly, enjoying how the tables had turned. "Because I think I'd quite like having you in my mouth."

The stream of words that left him were desperate and filthy. She laughed when he thrust up against her and she ground herself down against him, making his eyes roll back towards his head. She leaned over him to offer him her mouth and he took it, kissing her hungrily, whilst she worked her hips against him. He felt so good, much better than any of the toys that had come into her possession over the years, and he panted into her mouth.

"Zoe –" he groaned, ragged with desire. _"Please."_

"Patience," she reminded him, and a choked sob of mirth and pain filled the air between them. She dragged her teeth over his chest and lightly nipped at his nipple, a sharp burst of pleasure taking him. "It's been a while since I've had sex with a man. You need to give me a second here."

"Yep, sure, take your time," the Doctor said even as his hips kept moving, trying to find relief against her.

It was nearly thirteen years since she had slept with her one and only male sexual partner, and she did need a moment to reorient herself. Almost all of her sexual experience came from Reinette who was built very, _very_ differently to the Doctor, and she needed to remember the rhythm of sex with a man. She brushed her hand over his chest and drew his hand to her mouth, kissing his fingers. She settled it against her hip so that he could guide her.

"Is it okay like this?" Zoe asked him, distracted by his well-kissed mouth. "Me on top?"

"Absolutely perfect," he said emphatically. "Yes. Definitely. _Please_."

"A simple yes would have been fine," she teased, amused.

"I didn't want to leave any room for confusion," he said seriously but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips and her heart expanded with love for him. He was _perfect_.

Zoe reached between them and took his cock in her hand. She ran her fingers over him, feeling the length of him and familiarising herself with the shape of it, enjoying the warmth and weight. She lined him up between her legs, and the Doctor's fingers flexed on her when she slowly sank down onto him. Her head tipped back and her eyes closed as she focused on the feel of her body giving way, making room for him inside of her. He was cooler to the touch than most humans but he felt so hot as she took him into her. A groan started low in the Doctor's chest before it worked its way through him to sound around the room when she bottomed out and stilled, adjusting to the feel of him inside of her.

"God," she breathed wondrously. "You feel so good."

She couldn't remember ever feeling so full and it was _everything_. She opened her eyes and looked down on the Doctor. Pleasure slammed into her and her muscles clenched around him. Colour was slashed high on his cheeks, and his pale chest was mottled by it. His mouth was parted as he tried to breathe, but his eyes, his bright blue eyes that she loved, were swollen with black desire. His body trembled with the effort of holding himself still, giving her the time she needed to adjust to him, and she touched his abdomen lightly with her fingertips.

"You're inside of me."

His head lolled back, strength in his neck gone. _"Zoe –"_

"Don't move," she said, suddenly aware that she could come again as she was, her muscles clenching around him. "Just – stay like that."

An experimental roll of her hips made his stomach muscles tighten. She did it again to hear the sounds he made before she pushed herself up. The delicious drag of him inside her made her body shiver, and she pushed back down. Both of them moaned in unison. She took his other hand and secured it against her hip so that he had hold of her, able to hold her up if she fumbled. She braced her hands on his chest and began to move, slowly finding a rhythm that worked for both of them, occasionally changing angles and speeds. Her thighs began to burn but she didn't care because he was making the most delicious sounds beneath her. His eyes were wide watching her face, her breasts, the place where he disappeared inside of her, and it was all more than he had ever dreamed possible.

She tightened her muscles around him when she pulled up, and he swore. " _Yes_ , just like that."

Zoe sat up so that she wasn't leaning over him and the Doctor groaned at the visual she created, her skin warm and glowing, marks on her where his mouth had been. She was beautiful and brilliant, and pleasure wound its way tightly around him. Her skin suffused with colour as her fingers curled lightly against his stomach, clenching into a fist, and her mouth parted. He felt the flutter of her muscles around him and he shifted his legs behind her, finding a new angle that made her gasp sharply, her eyes flying wide open.

"Let me –" he began, unable to finish any sentence he started whilst he was inside of her, but she nodded, trusting.

Keeping careful hold of her, he sat up and rolled until she was beneath him. He slid his hand down the length of one of her glorious legs and hooked his hand under her knee where the skin was soft and tantalising. He pressed her open further, her head falling back, and he found the perfect angle to thrust into her. He felt his pleasure building higher and higher. He knew that he wasn't going to last longer, the tight knot of tension at the base of his spine threatening to set him on fire, and he kissed her. His fingers reached between them and played across her clit, rubbing and pressing, until she came around him, gasping out his name as her fingers clutched at his arm.

He shifted and gazed down at her face that was muzzy with pleasure, and he sought his own release. It hit him as surely as he had been struck over the head by something hard, slamming into him; the intensity took him by surprise. Her arms came around him, grounding him, mouth kissing him through it. His world shook and he couldn't breathe, the pressure of it tightening around him as he ground his hips hard against hers, trying to press himself deeper inside of her as he spilled into her. The pleasure was so intense that it knocked his arms out from him, but Zoe caught him and held him as he shook and groaned through his own orgasm until he could breathe again, gasping against her warm skin, filling his body with oxygen. He was unable to move, his body slack and heavy with pleasure, but he grew conscious of the fact that he was squashing Zoe and moved reluctantly.

She protested but he dropped heavily at her side, immediately closing the distance between them, feeling as though he had run a marathon. Happiness replaced the sharp, desperate desire and he turned his head to look at her. She was already watching him, face soft and relaxed, affection shining through him. She smiled when he met her eyes, the grin stretching across her face, and she laughed.

"What?"

"I'm sorry," she apologised through her laughter, "it's just – that was really good."

He grinned at her. "Yeah?"

"Worth the wait?" She asked with a light tease, and he lifted his hand to brush some hair from her face, letting his fingers linger on the softness of her curls.

"Absolutely," he said honestly, feeling split open and brave. Her eyes softened, and she rolled onto her side to kiss him, soft and gentle. "You're perfect."

She curled her hand around his hip and snuggled into his arms. He could see her need for sleep creep back into her. He was reminded that she had had a long day with a lot of stress and anxiety. He made space for her against him, enjoying the soft, pleased sigh when she curled into him, her nose against his shoulder.

"This is nice," she murmured, pleased. "I could get used to this."

"Good," he replied softly, watching as sleep stole over her. "So could I."

Her face relaxed and her body loosened in his arms. Watching her sleep was something he was an old hand at, but never like this. He held her carefully, reaching for the throw that he hoped she still kept to hand. His hand closed around the soft material and he gave it a tug, spreading it over them from getting cold. He tucked it gently around her, brushing a kiss over her temple before he settled down, sharing her space.

For the first time since the end of the war and the loss of Gallifrey, the Doctor felt completely at peace.


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter Sixty-One**

 _December 24th, 2006_

Mickey stood in the doorway of Rose's bedroom and frowned. He had stopped by to pick up a box of PG Tips that Jackie texted him for. Despite the fact that the Doctor kept the TARDIS stocked with that very brand, she didn't trust it. She preferred her own tea that she bought down at Tesco's instead of whatever potentially alien or future tea that she believed the Doctor kept around. No amount of persuading from Rose eased her stance on the matter. He remembered the weeks they had spent on the TARDIS when Zoe was hovering between life and death. Jackie had insisted on doing the weekly shop so that she knew exactly where the food came from. It never bothered the Doctor because he had been consumed by determination to find a way to fix Zoe, and Mickey doubted that he had actually noticed that Jackie did the shopping.

He held the box of tea in one hand and stared at Jack who was lying on top of the covers on Rose's bed, dressed in his trousers and a T-shirt, feet bare. He looked oddly vulnerable with the pale skin of his feet visible, and something in Mickey pulled him closer to the man that he didn't quite understand. Jack was sleeping – a note scribbled on a piece of paper in Rose's wonky writing telling him to meet them in the TARDIS when he woke up – but it didn't appear to be peaceful.

Mickey had only had a glimpse of the world of the Doctor – the Nestene Consciousness, Slitheen, Raxacoricofallapatorius, Mondas – and those few experiences had been enough to fill him with enough nightmares to last a lifetime. He had nightmares for weeks after being taken by the Consciousness, and then again after the Slitheen breached his flat. He dreamt that he wasn't strong enough to keep the creature at bay, and it struck him down with its claw, dying with Jackie's screams ringing through his ears. Other times he was the Slitheen, and he watched in horror as a large green arm pushed through his skin and reached out to kill someone he loved: normally Rose, sometimes Zoe and Jackie, and on one occasion, the Doctor.

It therefore wasn't a surprise to Mickey that Jack had nightmares.

Rose had got drunk one night shortly after Zoe left for university and things between the sisters were still tense, and she told him about the Daleks in terrifying detail. Mickey hoped and prayed to never meet one, and Jack had met hundreds of thousands. He had gone off to what he thought would be his death with nothing more than a parting kiss and a bracing grin. It was no wonder he was tossing and turning.

Mickey stepped into the bedroom, uncertain if he should intervene. He liked Jack a lot and definitely considered him a friend, a term that he was reluctant to apply to the Doctor because the memory of that long year of Rose's absence remained strong within him, but his own experience of Rose's nightmares stayed his hand. She lashed out and kicked at him, a scream ripping from her throat as he had tried to pull her from the lingering effects of the abuse that Jimmy Stone had heaped on her. She never meant to hurt him, it was just her body protecting her, but being smacked across the face by a desperate Rose was different to being smacked by Jack who had more weight and strength to him.

Still, he couldn't leave him to suffer the tumult of his mind. With a small groan and the expectation that everything was about to go horribly wrong, he crept forwards.

"Gray?" Jack breathed, twitching in his sleep. His body tensed, and his fingers flexed into a claw, digging into the top of the covers. His breathing came harder, more strained, and the mattress groaned beneath a violent jerk. "Gray! _GRAY!"_

Mickey reached down and touched his shoulder.

Jack jerked awake, his brother's name in his mouth. A dark form shifted above him. Fear of the Howlers made him lash out. He gripped and rolled until he had the threat pinned beneath him, hand wrapped around a warm throat that pulsed with life, and his head spun. He was eleven years old and on the run from the Howlers, but then he was thirty-three and facing down a Dalek fleet. The memories shifted like sand, and he couldn't grasp hold of them. His hand tightened around the throat beneath him. A sharp gasp and punch to his ribcage made him stare down at the face. It took a long, terrifying moment of blankness before he recognised the person under him.

Mickey coughed violently as Jack's hand released him abruptly. The pressure on top of him eased when Jack leapt off off the bed to put distance between the two of them, shaking. It felt like fire had been poured directly down his throat, and he slid off the bed to land on his knees, bracing himself against the side as he coughed.

"Mickey, fuck, I'm sorry," Jack apologised, pale and horrified. His entire body trembled, and Mickey waved a hand, trying to catch his breath but it _hurt._ "Shit. Stay here. I'll go get the Doctor. He can help."

"Jack," Mickey rasped, his name making him pause in the doorway, uncertain and dripping with guilt. "I'm fine. It's okay."

Despite the lack of oxygen in his body and the memory of Jack's strong fingers wrapped around his throat, he was actually fine: surprised, shaken, and unsettled, but otherwise fine.

"I – Mickey –" Jack said, hands gesturing uselessly from where he hovered near the door, hesitant to move any closer to him. "I'm so sorry."

Mickey waved his free hand at him and slumped against Rose's bed, the metal edge of it digging into his spine. He felt hot and cold at the same time, adrenaline pushing sweat out onto his skin, only for it to cool and cling immediately.

"What the hell was that?" He asked breathlessly, massaging his throat. "Who's Gray?"

Jack's face crumpled and he looked like he wanted to cry. He rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head, mouth moving as though he wanted to say something that could make up for what he had done, an explanation or a sincere apology, but what came out was – "I nearly strangled you."

"Yeah, I got that," he rasped, head throbbing a little as oxygen rushed in. "But it's cool. I shouldn't have tried to wake you up. That's on me."

Jack flinched at the easy forgiveness in his words. He fumbled for a bottle of water on the night stand to help ease the pain in Mickey's throat, but he knocked it off with clumsy hands and it rolled under the bed understand.

He felt useless.

"Shit, sorry."

"It's fine," Mickey got out, and he made the mistake of attempt to clear his throat. Fresh fire burned through him at the effort, and he coughed violently again. His eyes watered as his body heaved, and he stared up at Jack from the floor. "Are you okay?"

"Am _I_ okay?" Jack repeated incredulously, tears hot behind his eyes. "Course I'm okay. You're the one who got his windpipe crushed."

"I know you didn't mean anythin' by it," he said. He would have rolled his eyes if there weren't tears streaming from them. He wiped them away as the sharp pain in his throat began to fade to a low, persistent burn. "But are you okay?"

"Mickey –"

"Answer the question, mate," Mickey said as firmly as he could when he sounded like he'd been scraped open by sandpaper. "I've seen Rose have enough nightmares to know when people aren't as fine as they say they are. Are you okay?"

Jack stared at him, vaguely curious about what would cause Rose to have nightmares, but his shoulders slumped in defeat. "No, not really."

"You want to talk about it?"

He considered it seriously. It wasn't difficult for him to understand why his most shameful memory twisted itself into a familiar nightmare so soon after his rescue from the Daleks. He knew that he would benefit from speaking about it, yet there was so much history to unravel and guilt to work through that Jack didn't know where to start. There was also part of him that shied away from letting it be known that he lost his brother. Through carelessness or cowardice he had never been sure how Gray's hand had slipped from his, but it didn't matter as Gray was still lost to him regardless.

As much as he loved them – Mickey, Rose, Zoe, Jackie, the Doctor – he still barely knew them. Stripping himself bare and placing the worst day of his life on the table for them to turn over and analyse wasn't something he was ready for; it wasn't something he was sure he would ever be ready for.

"No," he said finally, and Mickey nodded his acceptance.

"All right then." He held out a hand with a voice like gravel. Jack hesitated before reaching forward to pull him to his feet. "But I'm here if you ever want to talk about it. Whatever it is, it doesn't seem like it's doin' you any good locked up in your head."

Thick emotion lodged itself in Jack's throat. He nodded jerkily and cleared his throat, trying not to look at the fingermarks around Mickey's neck. He knew that the marks could easily be healed in the TARDIS, but guilt slipped through him over how close he had come to irrevocably harming Mickey.

"C'mon," Mickey rasped generously, "Jackie an' Rose have gone down to the TARDIS to make breakfast. Figure Zoe an' the Doc are there as well."

"Breakfast sounds good," Jack said, still a little unbalanced, but Mickey's calm and easy manner helped to centre himself again. "And we'll swing by the sickbay to fix your throat."

"After you then, Captain Cheesecake," Mickey grinned, gesturing before him.

Jack huffed, reluctantly amused despite feeling shaken, and made his way to the door. "Watch it, Mickey Mouse."

* * *

Zoe lay back against her soft mattress, hair splayed out across her pillow and sweat cooling on her skin. Her body thrummed. She gave her toes a wiggle to try and work some feeling back into them. Happy and sated, her hand reached down to rest lightly on top of the Doctor's head where her fingers curled softly behind his ear, cradling him to her. She didn't know what time it was or how long she had been asleep but she found it difficult to care. She wanted to stay locked in her bedroom with the Doctor, talking and making love, for as long as she wanted. She didn't want to answer questions and make reassurances as she had earned her temporary respite from the universe.

"If that's how you intend on waking me up every morning," she began in a pleasure-roughened voice once she caught her breath, "then I think I can get onboard with early mornings."

The Doctor laughed against her stomach, enjoying the way that her fingers pressed against his scalp and traced the shell of his ear. He could hear the rush of blood through her body, the insistent pounding of her heart as it came back down from the heights he had driven it to, and he enjoyed the solid warmth of her beneath him. He wanted to spend every morning in bed with her: tangled together and enjoying each other's company. She was a pleasant sight to wake up to even if her hair did explode out everywhere, sticking up in every direction and making her groan as she tried to force it down. It made her look like the bottom of an electrified mop head, but it was something that he found endearing and surprisingly attractive.

"We both know you'll smother me in my sleep if I wake you up too early," he said, shifting off of her to settle at her side. His eyes swept the length of her body, determined to learn every inch of it. "It's a good job I sleep less than you do."

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "The orgasms are nice. They might persuade me to attempt early mornings."

"Nicer than coffee?" He asked, tracing her bellybutton with light fingers.

"Nothing's nicer than coffee," she frowned, his mention of it making her crave a cup. It had definitely been at least a day since she had one, and she found herself briefly fantasising about a perfectly roasted cup of black coffee before she brought herself back to look up at him. "You're a very close second best though."

An amused grin slid across his face, and she liked what it did to his eyes. Despite being older than most humans could imagine, he didn't look it. She remembered clocking his age at around early- to mid-forties when she first met him over a decade ago. The lines around his eyes were one of her favourite parts of his face. She had always wanted to trace them when he smiled, and now that she had free reign of his body she did just that. Her fingers moved lightly over the creases in his skin and felt the papery softness of it beneath her touch. His grin faded and heat suffused his gaze instead. He didn't move to touch her back or to turn into her fingers; he simply watched her, his breath quickening slightly.

"You're hell on my ego," he said, though the impact was lost by the rumbling tones of his voice that she was beginning to recognise as arousal.

It was a side of him she hadn't experienced before, and it excited her what new things she was discovering about him. She brushed her fingers down from his crow's feet to rest against his lips to feel his small, content sigh rush against them.

"Having met a grand total of two Time Lords now," Zoe said, pleased with the reaction she could evoke from him, "I realise it's my solemn responsibility to check your ego when it needs it. Consider it my universal civic duty."

His lips moved beneath her fingertips into a smile. "The Corsair wasn't that bad, was she?"

"Well, she wasn't particularly friendly," she said, dropping her hand and rolling her body into a deep stretch that drew his eyes and attention until she was done. "And I'm pretty sure she would have left me to die if I did something stupid, but she was all right, I suppose. For a Time Lord." He rolled his eyes at her. "Although, she did not like being touched."

She still felt the sharp impact of the wall at her back and the quick spike of fear that pushed through her at realising the Corsair had her pinned.

"Most Time Lords found physical contact with other species to be a little... _unpleasant_ ," the Doctor explained. A laugh slipped out of her, and she glanced down at their naked bodies that were pressed together. Inexplicably, he felt his ears heat. "Obviously, I don't hold the same views."

"Obviously," she said in such a way that had his blush spread from his ears to his cheeks. "Though I do have a question."

"Yeah?"

"What's the deal with handshakes?" Zoe asked, and he looked at her, confused. "I went to shake her hand at the end of it all, and she said it was intimate."

The colour ran down into his chest. "Ah, well, yeah."

Zoe looked at him, pained anticipation seeping into her face, and she rubbed one eye with the heel of her palm. "This is going to be something weird, isn't it?"

"No, not weird, but – yeah, okay, it's a little weird from a human perspective, I suppose," the Doctor admitted reluctantly. She lowered her hand and waited for whatever alien nonsense he had for her this time. "Time Lords are mildly telepathic, you know that." She nodded. "And, generally, we could feel the presence of each other. It's how we knew who was who with all the regenerations. But if we wanted to increase that connection between our partners then we would use touch telepathy to strengthen it."

Zoe thought about the implications and blinked. "So me offering to shake the Corsair's hand was what? Me propositioning her?"

"More or less."

Her nose crinkled at the thought, even as amusement ran through her. The Corsair was an odd woman, although perhaps perfectly normal for a Time Lord – her sample size of two wasn't enough to draw any viable information from; she couldn't help but be amused at what must have been the Corsair's inner thought process when Zoe first held out her hand and then showed her what to do. She didn't know what the equivalent would be on Earth in the 21st century, but she grew steadily more amused by the whole misunderstanding and how well the Corsair had handled it before a thought struck her.

"Wait," Zoe said, though he was doing nothing but watching her. She looked at him, eyes narrowed in curiosity. "You're always holding people's hands: mine, Rose's, Jack's, strangers in the shop. Are you –?"

"It's not – the connection's only possible with other telepathic beings," he explained quickly, cutting her off as his embarrassment returned with full force. The need to clarify matters made him feel fumbling and boyish. "Most humans aren't on the spectrum, and even those that are wouldn't feel anything different. Me holding your hand is just me holding your hand."

He looked at her with such earnestness that she felt heat pulse between her legs. She would have believed him regardless, but the way he looked at her as though it was important for her to understand that holding hands was really as innocent as it seemed made her love for him swell on a gentle wave.

"My god," Zoe said, unable not totease him. "You must have been a nightmare for the High Council to deal with. There they were with their non-interference policies and not interacting with lesser beings and you're off causing trouble around the universe whilst holding hands willy-nilly with people. Did they think you were some sort of sex fiend?"

He grimaced. "There might have been a few conversations along those lines, yes."

She tried not to laugh, but it was difficult. Her eyes were apologetic even as she pressed a hand across her mouth to muffle her amusement, but it slipped from between her fingers. She couldn't help it. It was the most ridiculous thing but entirely in-keeping with what she knew of the Time Lords and their society; the look of resigned acceptance on his face also made it that much funnier to her. He watched her, features softening in the face of her delight, and brushed the tears of laughter away with his thumb.

"You done?" The Doctor asked when she caught her breath again.

"For now," Zoe said, catching his hand and lacing it with hers across her stomach. She shook her head, her amusement lingering. "Time Lords. You were a weird bunch of people."

"You humans have your fair share of weirdness," he pointed out. "I've seen how you eat chocolate éclairs."

"It's the only sensible way to eat them!" She protested just as he knew she would. Her hands gestured above her body as she defended herself. "You peel off the chocolate, lick out the cream, and then eat the pastry. Who eats it just by biting it?"

"Most people who aren't trying to traumatise their friends?" He joked and grunted when she turned into him unexpectedly. He fell back with a laugh as she rolled on top of him, nipping at his shoulder playfully. He twisted until she was on her back beneath him and kissed her in the slow, deep way that made his skin tingle and his brain fall pleasantly silent. "I like your weirdness: éclair eating and all."

"You say the sweetest things," she smiled up at him, happiness surging through her. "What's the likelihood that we can stay in bed all day?"

"Slim to none knowing your family," he said, sitting up and drawing her with him. "And I would rather your mother never, _ever_ walk in on the two of us doing anything more than drinking a cup of tea at a respectable distance from each other."

She brushed her hand over his shoulder. "There's something I absolutely never want to think about. You think she's going to notice?"

"I think..." he started carefully, aware of his precarious position. "That the longer we can delay telling your mother, the safer I'll be."

"It's sweetly naïve that you think that."

"I need time," he told her seriously, and she straightened her face out to match his mood though humour clung to the corners of her mouth. "Your mother loves you, but she's very much on the fence about me. I'm going to win her around though."

"You are?" She asked sceptically. "Because past experience of you and my mother tells me that that's probably not going to end at all well."

"Jackie and I were coming to an understanding when you were sick," the Doctor said. "And whilst recent events are definitely a setback, I'm sure I can bring her around to resigned acceptance at least."

"Good on you for aiming high," Zoe said, pressing her thumb against the pulse point beneath his ear so that she could feel the life of him thrum beneath her touch. "But what happened to the man I met who loudly protested against any display of domestics?"

"He met a scrawny, opinionated, argumentative seventeen-year-old who dragged his head out of his arse," he said, drawing a laugh from her. "And somehow let himself be steam rolled by two teenaged girls and a con artist with a heart of gold and surprising depths."

"I think you were just waiting for an excuse to let the domestics back in," she said, meeting his eyes. He wondered if it should terrify him how easily she saw through his bluster. "So I'm glad we provided one."

He enjoyed the kiss she gave him.

"But you know it doesn't matter what Mum thinks, right?" Zoe told him. "Yeah, I'd like the two of you to get on, but she doesn't actually get a say in it. I like you. That's the only thing that matters."

"I know," the Doctor said. "But it's important to me to get Jackie's – not blessing, so much, but..."

"Resigned acceptance?"

"Yes." His mouth twitched at her teasing. "She's your mum, and you love her. I don't want to be the thing that complicates that more than I already have. There are a number of things that she's well within her rights not to forgive me for, but I want her to see that I can be good for you too."

"You are," she told him, shifting in his lap. She cupped his face in her hands and rubbed her thumbs over the soft prickle of his stubble. "And I think deep down Mum knows that."

"You know, she's the first mother I've ever met," the Doctor said, and her face dropped into a confused frown. "I mean, of the people I've travelled with. I never used to meet families or bring my friends back for a visit. I regret that now that I know what I've been missing out on."

"Something to consider for the future then," she said lightly, and he smiled between her hands. He felt open and vulnerable, as though he had said too much and given too much away. She read the look in his eyes and kissed him again, pulling back to look at him with an innocent look in her eye that didn't fool him for an instant. "You think my shower could fit the two of us?"

A grin burst across his face and the weight of her eased from his lap, letting him jump to his feet and chase her into her bathroom with happiness dogging his steps.

* * *

It proved to be a difficult task preparing for the day as the Doctor was a source of distraction with his stolen kisses and sly touches. She had to banish him to the other side of her bedroom so that she could get dressed without him attempting to undress her straight away. His knee bounced where he sat in her favourite chair, a book on neurology and memory that she had been skimming set to one side, and he offered his opinion on various items of clothing that she sorted through. Her room was something of a mess; her normal, natural tidiness had slipped over the years, but it was a problem for another day, she decided, slipping her bare feet into a pair of slip ons and running some chapstick across her kiss-sore lips.

"Well?" Zoe asked, holding out her arms to show off her grey trousers and soft, dark red jumper that he wanted to touch. "Do I pass inspection?"

"You look lovely," the Doctor smiled. "You always do."

"Do we have anything planned for today?" She asked, casting her eye around her room before snatching up her phone and dropping it into her pocket. He stretched his long legs and stood up. "Was anything decided whilst I slept?"

"Jack wants to do some shopping, I think," he said. "Because it's Christmas and he wants to get presents for everyone."

She grimaced. "On Christmas Eve? God, that's going to be awful."

"I think he's looking forward to it," he said. "Something about getting the whole experience."

"Jack's always been an odd duck."

"Speaking of ducks," the Doctor said as they left her bedroom, "did you know he likes bird-watching?"

"Who – Jack?" She asked, surprised "Really? Is it like a hobby or something?"

"A pretty avid one."

"There are those surprising depths again," she said with an amused glance, and he grinned.

As they approached the kitchen, they became aware that they were no longer alone. Laughter and conversation flowed out from the social hub of the TARDIS, and Zoe found herself walking quicker to reach it. She paused in the doorway and allowed herself the luxury of drinking in the sight. Jack, Rose, Mickey, and Jackie were seated around the table with the crumbs of their breakfast left on their plates before them. It was a better sight by far than the empty table and chairs that had been her companions for four years, and the smile that stole across her face wasn't one that she wanted to stop.

"Morning," Zoe greeted, interrupting them.

"There you are!" Rose exclaimed. "Where've you been?"

"Sleeping," she said, moving in and her hand rested on Jack's shoulder as he was the closest, and she wanted to feel that he wasn't a dream. "I was exhausted, and you and Jack take up a lot of space in bed."

"Not if we snuggle," Jack said, eyebrows tipped lasciviously at her, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that his head was tipped so far back he appeared upside down.

"Tempting as that is, I needed to spread out," she said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. He beamed at her; she scratched her fingers lightly against his scalp. "Morning, Mum."

"C'mere, sweetheart," Jackie said, standing and Zoe happily went over into her mother's embrace. It had been six months since her last visit home – though it should have only been one – and she was pleased to see her again. "You home now? For good?"

"I was telling the Doctor earlier that I only need to take my exams, and then I'm done with university," Zoe said, and the thought of having finished with her studies and possessing the degree that was once the only thing that mattered to her left her feeling a little out of sorts. "So I just need one more trip back and that's that."

"My baby," Jackie beamed proudly, cupping her face between her hands. "The university graduate."

"Oh, god, gerroff," Zoe complained as Jackie attempted to shower her face with kisses, twisting her body with a laugh to escape to safety behind the Doctor, who was smiling as he poured her a cup of coffee. "What are you lot doing here anyway? Get bored of the flat?"

"We were lookin' for you two," Mickey said with an odd rasp to his voice that made her think he had a cold coming on. His knee bumped up against Jack's under the table. "You know it's midday, right?"

"I did not know that," she said, taking the coffee from the Doctor and bringing it to her nose; a small shiver of delight rolled through her. "But I've been working hard. I deserve a lie in."

"No one's sayin' otherwise," Jackie said with a stern look at Rose, who was relaxed in her seat and looked offended at being singled out. Her eyes flicked to the Doctor. "Are you stayin' for Christmas?"

The Doctor lowered his own coffee from his mouth. "Am I invited?"

"I s'pose you have to be," she said with less annoyance than she normally used when speaking to him. "Since my daughters seem set on keepin' you around."

"Then I'd love to spend Christmas with you, Jackie," the Doctor smiled, and Zoe peered up at the ceiling, trying not to laugh. "Anything I can do to help? I make a mean gravy."

"He actually does," Rose said. "I don't know what he puts in it but it's really delicious. What was that thing you made with it? Before we met Jack."

"Duck?"

"No, it had like six eyes."

"Oh, _jamba_ ," he said with a grin. "That was good."

"You're definitely not allowed in the kitchen," Jackie said, looking faintly disgusted at the prospect of eating something with six eyes.

"I've cooked for you before," the Doctor reminded her, and her gaze turned sharp and suspicious. He held up his free hand. "Only human food with human ingredients. Cross my hearts."

"Hearts?"

He held up two fingers. "I've got two."

"Hearts?"

"Yep."

She stared at him. "What else have you got two of?"

Zoe choked on her coffee, spraying the back of Mickey's head with the liquid, and Jack tipped his head back, roaring with laughter. A blush spread from the Doctor's ears and into his cheeks at Jackie's unthinking question. He turned away so that no one would see the red stain in his face and busied himself with making throwing together some breakfast from the leftovers for him and Zoe. By the time he turned back, he felt more in control and set a plate down in front of Zoe, who smiled her thanks at him before proceeding to politely demolish everything in front of her.

She was hungry but it remained impossible to forget her manners.

"Hungry?" Jack asked with the tone of someone watching a car crash and unable to look away.

"Starving," she said, swallowing a large mouthful of scrambled eggs and dabbing delicately at her mouth with her napkin. "I haven't eaten properly in a couple of days. Been sick."

"Not again," Jackie sighed, pre-emptively exasperated. "What was it this time? Fall into a vat of mad cow disease or somethin'?"

Zoe laughed. "No. I mean, kind of –"

"Oh, Jesus." Her mother rubbed her eyes, and the Doctor was struck by her resemblance to her youngest daughter in that moment. "What d'you do?"

"It was a just a little radiation poisoning," she replied, stealing a sausage from the Doctor's plate before he could stop her. "It made me throw up a little, and I couldn't really eat properly after it, but I'm fine now. Just hungry."

Jackie watched her, concern lingering around her eyes, but she looked away from the display of hunger and flicked her eyes onto the Doctor. He shifted beneath her gaze, but gave her a smile. She had been nice to him the night before, seemingly pleased to see him alive and well, even if a hint of sharpness had crept into their interactions when he had asked after Zoe and for information about her life since she couldn't answer whilst sleeping. She was angry with him, but she was also glad he was alive.

He considered it a good starting point for what he hoped would be a peaceful, future relationship with her.

"What've you been doing?" Jackie asked him, and he wondered if she suspected anything.

Since the Doctor couldn't very well say _your daughter,_ he lied. "Just checking over the TARDIS systems, making sure that everything's hunky-dory. Four years is a long time to go without any maintenance."

"I did maintenance," Zoe told him, a piece of bacon dangling from the end of her fork. "Although, it would have been easier if the TARDIS translated Gallifreyan. I used the instruction manual, and thank God there were pictures otherwise I'd have been completely lost. Your language is unnecessarily complicated."

"It is," he agreed. "But the TARDIS seems in ship-shape. You did good."

She blushed around a mouthful of bacon, pleased that he thought so, and she ignored the rest of the conversation around the table as she finished off her breakfast. The swell of conversation washed over her and she enjoyed it. Her breakfasts were usually spent in her study, or sitting in the bakery whilst flicking through some work, or quickly rushed down as she hurried to class. She had missed the long, lazy breakfasts with people she loved and revelled in being back amongst it all. The Doctor and Mickey were lightly sniping at each other, none of the sharp annoyance that had characterised their early relationship; and Jack was telling Rose and Jackie about the holidays he had celebrated as a child. She looked around at them all and felt the urge to cry.

Her hard work had made it possible to have them all in the same room again, and she was proud of herself.

The Doctor caught her eye and concern slipped into his face at the sight of her. Before he could say anything, she smiled at him.

"If you'll all excuse me for a few minutes," Zoe said, rising and taking her plate to the sink to deal with later. "I need to make a phone call."

Rose looked around with a curious frown. "To who?"

"To _whom_ ," she corrected automatically, and Rose's eyes narrowed. "Sorry, habit. Just Alistair. I wanted to let him know that he could stand UNIT down. I'll be back in a bit."

She grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and left the kitchen, breathing a little easier away from the scene of domestic bliss. It was going to take a while to readjust to living with other people. As happy as she was that they were all together again, she had had four years of living alone in the TARDIS and doing as she pleased. She was quietly worried that she would struggle with having people in her space once more. Then again, the TARDIS was apparently infinite. She was sure she could find somewhere to hide from them if she needed time alone.

She bumped open the door to her study and took a sip of her coffee as she tapped her thumb against Alistair's name. As predicted, he was delighted to hear from her.

" _So, the old boy is back safe and sound then_?" He said after she finished explaining the last few days in a concise a manner as possible. In the background, she could hear the sound of his grandchildren enjoying themselves in the background as his daughter and her husband were visiting for the holidays. " _How is he?_ "

"Fine, fine, he's fine," Zoe said, propping her feet up on the desk that needed to be cleaned. She used the heel of her foot to brush dried satsuma peel into the bin. "A little confused over everything that's happened and we're playing catch-up right now, but he's good. We're actually about to spend Christmas with my mother."

She had to pull the phone away from her ear Alistair laughed so hard.

" _Oh, my dear, please do take some pictures_ ," he requested mischievously. " _I would love to see what that looks like_."

"He says he's going to get my mother to like him," she found herself smiling. "Would you care to place a bet on his success?"

Alistair laughed again. " _I can see why he likes you_."

"I'm easy to like," she said as the door to her study opened and Jack stuck his head inside; she waved him in.

" _That you are_ ," he agreed. " _I'm going to enjoy passing the news of your success along. Although, I dare say that Dr Taylor will be disappointed he didn't get to have the breakthrough he was hoping for. He's a bit of a fan when it comes to the Doctor._ "

"Please tell him that I'm grateful for his work," she smiled whilst Jack poked around, curious at her work space. "It won't mean as much coming from me, I'm sure, but I'd like him to know whilst also not having to speak to him again. He's very...exuberant."

" _Yes, he is,_ " Alistair said, making her smile. " _You take care of yourself, Zoe. Try and keep him out of trouble as well._ "

"I'll do my best," she promised. "Merry Christmas and love to the family."

Zoe hung up and smiled at Jack. "Welcome to my study."

"I like it," Jack said honestly, looking fondly at a framed picture of the four of them that was taken in Berlin, 1989, before they discovered the Zygon nest. "It's very you. Is this where the daring rescue plan was invented?"

"Here and the local bar," she joked, swinging her legs off so that she could stand up and hug him. If he was surprised by it, he didn't let it show. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. He smelt good and familiar, and she spoke into his chest. "I've missed you."

It was still novel to him to have people to miss him and care about him. The emotion made his throat sore, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Thanks for coming to get us."

"Always," Zoe promised, meaning it

She pulled back to look up at him, at the face that had become so dear to her despite them only spending a grand total of four months together, and she punched him in the arm.

"Ow!" Jack complained. "What was that for?"

"For going off to die, you mushroom!" She snapped, irritation making her scowl. "What sort of bone-headed thinking was going through your mind when you thought you'd mosey on off to the top of the station and use _your life_ to buy the Doctor some more time?"

"I thought it was the right thing to do," he protested, rubbing the spot on his arm, face falling into a small, unconscious pout.

"God, you and the Doctor!" She exclaimed. "The two of you are such drama queens when you put your minds to it. No wonder you need me and Rose around. You'd both get killed in a heartbeat without us."

"You know, I was surviving pretty well before I met you lot," Jack pointed out, though he was well-aware that he was much happier since he had met the three of them. The best decision of his life was tossing that Chula ambulance in the path of the TARDIS. "I didn't need someone to look out for me then."

"Maybe not," she said, and he felt uncomfortable under her gaze that turned sharp and knowing. "But didn't you want someone?"

He cleared his throat. He felt stripped open and raw. "I don't know what you mean."

Her irritation and exasperation drained from her. She took his hand and played with his fingers.

"You may not place any value on your life," Zoe said seriously, "but I do. You mean a lot to me, and I'd like to keep you in one piece for as long as possible, okay?"

Jack hesitated. "It's been a long time since I've had people care about me."

"I figured," she admitted with a small, soft smile. "But it's too late now. You've got a whole bunch of us, so please try not to do anything heroically sacrificial again unless absolutely necessary. I've already lost one person I love; I don't want to lose another.

"I promise," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead before he frowned and sniffed. "Why do you smell like the Doctor?"

She paused, heart skipping a beat. "What?"

"You've got his cologne in your hair."

 _Of course she did._

"Oh, I've been wearing one of his jumpers to bed," she lied quickly, flashing him an abashed smile. "It's a bit embarrassing, but I – er – I got really lonely during the last four years, and I'd sort of wear his clothes and maybe sleep in your bed sometimes when it was really bad. Don't make a big deal about it. I'm aware I have issues."

It wasn't as far from the truth as she would have liked it to be.

"Zo," Jack said softly, her name filled with tenderness and sympathy that made her feel hot and uncomfortable.

"I said don't make a big deal about it," she said awkwardly, avoiding his eyes, and she cleared her throat. "Did you come looking for me for a reason?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, giving her the space that she signalled she wanted. "Since it's Christmas and neither me nor the Doctor have done any shopping, which Mickey tells me is a pretty important part of the whole experience, we've decided to head into town. All of us are going. Well, the Doctor says he'll go if you do because he doesn't want to leave you alone. You in?"

"You know it's going to be heaving in the shops, right?" She asked him, aware that Earth in the 21st century was still new to him. "Christmas Eve is a nightmare for shopping."

He was unbothered by the thought of crowds. "It's my first Christmas. I want to do everything.."

"Fair 'nough," she said. "I'm in."

Jack pumped his fist, pleased, and she laughed.

* * *

Jack had only been to London in the 21st century once before. His last visit included Jackie breaking the Doctor's nose and a night out with Mickey and friends in Peckham, so he hadn't had the opportunity to explore deeper into London. Unable to resist his handsome face and hopeful look, they agreed to leave their neighbourhood and venture into what Zoe scathingly called "tourist London" so that he could get the full experience of a 21st century Christmas. The Doctor caught sight of Zoe's face when Jack asked to visit Oxford Street, holding a guidebook in his hands that he must have found in the library, and he had to look away so that he didn't laugh at the look on her face.

She was not one for crowds at the best of times, but she also wasn't going to be the one to burst Jack's bubble. Her eyes met his and the look of dread slipped away to be replaced by a small, amused smile. He found it difficult to keep his eyes off her, and his fingers twitched to make up some excuse and drag her back to the TARDIS. He wanted nothing more than to lock the universe out to be alone with her, but she glowed with happiness at being surrounded by her family again that he forced his desire down.

"This is hell," the Doctor muttered to Rose who was squished up against him on the crowded tube some time later. "I've died and gone to hell."

Rose beamed up at him, holding onto the railing to keep herself from tipping even further into his body. "It's London at Christmas. Course it's hell."

"The sooner you lot get onto online shopping the better," he grumbled, aware that he sounded like a crochety old man. His hand flew to her waist, steadying her when the tube car jerked and she stumbled. "You don't actually enjoy this, do you?"

She snorted. "Course not. Back before you blew Henrik's up –" they shared a flashing grin at the memory of their first meeting, "I had to work Christmas Eve as overflow staff in the toy department. _That_ was hell. You wouldn't believe how rude people can get when you don't have whatever action figure or toy is popular an' they've been stupid enough not to plan ahead. I think 'bout six different people screamed at me in the space of an hour because we were sold out."

"That's awful."

"That's retail," Rose told him before her eyes took on a mischievous gleam. "Did I ever thank you for blowin' up my job?"

"Can't say as that you did," the Doctor said, amused. "I remember hearing a lot of complaints though."

She grinned, tongue pressing behind her teeth. "Well, ta very much. It was a shit job, an' its best that it's blown up."

"You're very welcome," he said, unable to keep a straight face any longer.

They were both laughing by the time the tube mercifully let them off at Oxford Circus tube station. The Doctor briefly lost track of Zoe in the crowd, and there was a brief flare of panic in his chest before he saw her curly head heading up the escalator, her hand tucked into Jack's, laughing at something he said. He felt a small pressure on his own hand and looked down, smiling when he saw Rose's hand had slipped into his. He gave it a squeeze and guided her through the painful crush of people with their large shopping bags and bulky coats.

Despite his centuries-old familiarity with London, there were times when the city felt alien to him and, as he emerged from the tube station into the bright, cold light of day, this was one of them. There hadn't been anything similar on Gallifrey as their cities were never crowded to the point of bursting. There were markets, of course, but they were more for a recreational means rather than anything intrinsic to their society. If there was something they needed, they asked for it and it was given. There was no exchange of money, no money at all, and the Doctor preferred it that way. Once money had been important on his planet, but that was far back in the Dark Ages and they had evolved past their dependency on currency. Earth would never reach that level of enlightenment: capitalism formed the bedrock of their society and their eventual expansion into a galactic empire.

He didn't see the appeal of money himself. It left people feeling stressed, and it made people do silly things in order to get it. It also kept people like the Tylers and Mickey from opportunities that should have been open to them.

"If we're going to do this," Zoe said when they all gathered together on the street, "then we're going to do this properly. Jack's going to get the full London at Christmas experience so we don't have to do it again."

"Got a plan?" The Doctor asked, lifting his arm so that Rose could huddle against his warmth as the wind was sharp.

"Always," she replied, having thought about it on the tube. Jack rolled onto the balls of his toes, excited. "We need to hit all the major tourist destinations in about eight hours. I'm talking the ice rink outside the Natural History museum; Buckingham Palace, obviously; he definitely needs to go around Harrods; the lights over at Regent's Street; and Christmas carols at St. Martin-in-the-fields church off Trafalgar. Am I missing anything?"

"We're goin' to need to eat at some point," Mickey pointed out.

"Camden?"

"Reckon so," he nodded. "There's enough there to give him an idea of the types of food we have."

"Sorted then," Zoe said, and she looked to Jack. "Sound good?"

"Sounds excellent!" He enthused. "Where we going first?"

"Oxford Street first," she decided. "Since we're already here. Then we can get the tube to Hyde Park and walk the rest of the way to Harrods."

"This is fun," Jack beamed, elated, and he was already tugging on Zoe's hand. "Come on, let's go."

"If we get separated, call me!" Zoe called over her shoulder, and she let Jack drag her into the crowd of people despite not knowing what direction he needed to go in.

Jackie and Mickey followed behind, chatting easily between themselves, and Rose leaned against his arm to move him forwards. He couldn't remember the last time he had celebrated Christmas. He thought maybe it was when he and Charley were travelling together, but it was so long ago that he couldn't quite remember. Or had it been with Romana? The two of them had liked to celebrate silly traditions from around the universe, more so when the war began to consume every waking moment of their lives. He remembered unearthing some cheap Christmas crackers from one of his storage rooms and laughing at the flimsy paper hat that she put on her head, toying with a rubbish plastic trinket in her hand. She looked beautiful and carefree in his memory as they drank their Earth tea and made each other laugh with increasingly bizarre takes on their time together, deliberately distorting their memories for entertainment's sake.

A sharp stab of grief cut into his chest between his hearts, and he swallowed back against the pain.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Rose asked, interrupting his slow descent into grief. When he didn't respond, she pressed again. "I know you've got everythin' you need in the TARDIS but what do you want?"

"I don't know," the Doctor replied unhelpfully, casting his eyes over an orchestra of Santas that struck up a cheerful Christmas jingle that could barely be heard over the crowds. "You don't have to get me anything."

She sighed as though he had said something stupid. "I wish Zoe had given me a warnin' she was comin' back with you two in tow. I could've had longer to think about what to get you."

"Seriously, you don't need to get me anything," he assured her. "I'm not human. I don't celebrate Christmas unless I'm on Earth when it's happening, and even then I don't really celebrate it."

"If you're spendin' Christmas with us, you're celebratin'," she told him, and his mouth twitched at how firm she was. "I might just get you a banana and be done with it."

"I do like bananas," he agreed. "What about you? What do you want?"

"Nothin'," she said with such certainty that he was taken by surprise. "All I've wanted for the last few months was you back safe an' I've got that. So I'm more than good."

The Doctor patted her hand a little clumsily, touched by her words. "Zoe did good there."

"Yeah," Rose said, pride creeping into her words. "She really did, didn't she? I've always known she's smart but this was like another level completely. She was just so focused. I didn't –" she hesitated, and he looked at her, waiting. "I wasn't as good at handlin' everythin' as she was."

It was the perfect opening, but the Doctor still hesitated.

"Zoe's told me a lot about what's happened for her over the last four years," he began, and her eyes shifted away from him to look into a store window that they passed. "Though I'm positive she's skimmed over quite a few bits in the retelling."

He had noticed a brief stumble when she spoke about visiting New Berlin on Luna Colony, stopping herself before she said too much, but given the sheer volume of information that she wanted to give to him, it wasn't something that concerned him. She would tell him in her own time if it was something she felt was important.

A look of uncertainty passed across Rose's face, and she avoided his eyes. "Did she tell you about our argument?"

"Briefly." He said and let the silence settle between them.

The silence wasn't to punish her for doing what she thought needed to be done, but more so that he could hear what she had to say without him guiding the conversation.

"I didn't..." she started before breaking off and frowning. "I just wanted to help. I thought if I – if I used the TARDIS –" the Doctor couldn't help but flinch at her word choice, "then I'd be able to save you."

He tugged her off the pavement and tucked them into a small nook outside a wedding dress shop that was, for reasons he didn't understand, busy. She finally looked up at him, wide-eyed and a little fearful of his reaction. Zoe hadn't told him much beyond the fact that she and Rose argued over the best course of action and what the options before them were before she moved the conversation on, and he wondered how bad the argument was to make Rose anxious of him. He didn't like the touch of fear in her eyes, and he rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand to try and chase it away.

"The TARDIS is alive," he told her. "I know she may not seem it to you but she is. Doing what you wanted to do...it wouldn't have killed her but it would have been awful. I'm glad Zoe stopped you, even if her way did cost her four years."

Rose looked down at her feet, ashamed. "I wanted you safe."

The Doctor sometimes forgot how young Rose was. Not yet twenty, but braver and kinder than most on her planet. He knew she hadn't meant any harm, but that didn't mean that wanting to open up the TARDIS and expose her soul to the universe was a good idea.

"I know," he said, taking care to keep his voice kind. He remembered speaking to his children in the same way when they had done something they shouldn't have. "But I would never want to be saved if it cost the TARDIS. She's my home, Rose; the one constant I've had for centuries. I don't want her hurt."

She couldn't look at him, and she sounded small when she spoke. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Your heart's in the right place," the Doctor told her, meaning it. "But maybe stop and think a little more before you jump in feet first."

"You sound like Zoe," Rose said, almost amused but still not looking at him. "She's been on at me for years for bein' impatient. An' ever since she started yoga, she's been naggin' me to try it. Says it's good for meditatin' or whatever."

"Might be nice for the two of you to do together," he suggested lightly, knowing that Zoe would welcome the opportunity to spend one-on-one time with her sister. "She hasn't spent much time with you since, blimey, before Nibiru for you and France for her."

Rose finally looked at him, blinking in surprise. "That was ages ago!"

"Eleven years," the Doctor said, a little surprised himself to hear it spoken out loud like that. It made it sound longer than it felt. "So, I imagine she's missed spending time with you."

"I don't know," Rose hesitated, "we haven't...the last few months have been... _difficult_."

"She's your sister, and she loves you," he told her firmly. "You two just need to find your balance again. Doing yoga together might be a good place to start."

"Do you think...?" She asked before trailing off. He waited for her. "Do you think she'll forgive me? For puttin' all this pressure on her? When she left, I knew she was your best hope an' I kept badgerin' her. I know it's why she made the time between her visits home longer an' longer."

"That's something you need to ask her," the Doctor said, not wanting to speak for Zoe. "But I can tell you that ever since I met her one thing about her has been abundantly clear and that's her love for you. Everything else came second to that. She was fully prepared to shove me off the top of your building when she thought I was doing you wrong. And someone who's willing to commit murder for you is generally someone who'll forgive you for being annoying once in a while."

Rose considered that before a grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. "She really was ready to toss you off the side of the buildin', wasn't she?"

"My life flashed before my eyes," he readily agreed. "I swear, I thought it was going to be death by angry teenager."

"How embarrassin' for you," she teased, and he snorted. Her amusement faded and she looked up at him properly. "I am sorry. For the TARDIS."

His expression softened. "Thank you. Now, enough of this. We've got Christmas presents to buy."

He offered his hand to her, and she took it with a relieved grin.

* * *

The Doctor leaned against the edge of the skating rink hours later and watched as Zoe took another fall to the ground. Rose stood above her and laughed, effortless on her skates, whilst Mickey and Jack tried to pick her up. It was a surprise to realise that Zoe was about as coordinated as a drunk giraffe when on the ice. He felt that her abilities at dancing, at which she was proficient and graceful, should translate across, yet she appeared to have difficulties in getting her feet to stay beneath her. He admired her nerve though. It was the sixth time she had hit the surface, wiping out in a flail of limbs and curse words spewed in French that grew ever more colourful and vehement, but she kept picking herself up with a grim determination that made him suspect she quite liked the punishment. The only other reason for her to preserve was her pride and he doubted that she cared overmuch about ice skating. At least not enough to suffer the hard, bruising impact each time she hit the ground.

Jack said something to her that made her scowl. From the distance he was at, the Doctor could see that she didn't mean it as a smile twitched at her mouth. She finally accepted help and slipped her arm through Jack's and held onto his tightly. Mickey lingered close to her as she made slow progress forwards, her knees too stiff to properly get into the swing of things, whilst Rose wobbled as she took a picture of her sister attempting to skate on her phone. Perhaps, the Doctor considered, it was healthy for Zoe to be rubbish at something. A relatively humble person by nature, taking pride in only what she had earned, it still didn't hurt to be reminded that she was fallible. It was something everyone could use at one time or another. Fortunately, he had Zoe and his friends to constantly remind him.

"Hot chocolate?"

The Doctor looked away from Zoe and straightened up when he saw Jackie next to him bearing two styrofoam cups of steaming hot chocolate. She had decided not to join the others on the ice citing tiredness, but he was beginning to suspect that Zoe inherited her poor skills in ice skating from her mother. Not that he ever intended to say that to Jackie, particularly when she was carrying hot liquid in her hands. He reached out and took the offered cup from her, taking care to thank her politely as he did so. Her eyes flicked over him and she nodded before looking back out onto the ice just as Zoe tipped forwards. They both braced themselves for a painful impact as she was heading face first towards the ground, but Jack caught her and moved her upright before she could lose her footing completely.

"She's rubbish at this," Jackie said, sipping her hot chocolate.

"I think it's charming," the Doctor said before he could stop himself. "And a little bit funny."

She raised her eyebrows at him but made no comment. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the cold and the tip of her nose was turning red. She seemed content though; far more content that he had ever known Jackie Tyler to be, and he was loathe to say or do something to change her mood. Instead, he looked away from the ice rink and cast his eyes around them.

The Natural History Museum looked beautiful illuminated with Christmas lights and set against the clear night's sky. He mourned the absence of the stars, but there was no way he would have been able to see stars in central London in the 21st century: the light pollution was horrendous. At least that was something that improved over the centuries. Families, lovers, and children mingled around them; an orchestra of Santas playing upbeat Christmas music as they moved through the crowd; the smell of roasting nuts and chocolate in the air. It was bliss, and he breathed in deeply, the cold air filling his lungs.

Twenty-four hours ago he thought he was facing certain death, and now he was standing in London drinking hot chocolate with Jackie Tyler having just entered into a much-longed-for relationship with Zoe.

After all his years, life still took him by surprise.

"Where's Howard?" The Doctor asked, peeling back the lid of his hot chocolate to taste it: it was thick and creamy and perfectly delicious. "Is he working? Strange time to work though, Christmas Eve. Much of a demand for fruit and veg the night before Christmas? Then again, I suppose if people forget their parsnips, then –"

"We broke up," Jackie interrupted his ramble, and he snapped his mouth shut with an audible clack. The wind twisted her hair in front of her eyes, and she brushed it away absently. "Wasn't really for me that relationship."

"Oh," he said softly, taking in her slightly defeated expression. He was struck by how young she looked. Compared to him she was a child despite her bravado and larger than life personality and two grown daughters. He wanted to comfort her, but he doubted she would appreciate the hugs that Zoe, Rose, and Jack preferred. He settled for words instead. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Not the first time I've ended a relationship," she told him, hands wrapped around her hot chocolate. "An' he took it well enough. He's a good bloke is Howard."

He looked at her curiously. "Then why did you break up with him?"

"Just didn't feel right."

The Doctor watched her and tried to listen to what she wasn't saying as much as what she was, and he thought he understood. He glanced away from her and out towards his friends again. Rose was skating circles around her sister, playful taunts falling from her lips, and Zoe was trying to reach her but she kept attempting to run before she could walk and Jack had to be quick every time to catch her. He thought of his conversation with Zoe, only two days ago from his perspective, and he realised how similar mother and daughter were. When they loved, they loved completely. It was difficult to move past such an encompassing love such as Zoe had with Reinette and Jackie had with Pete.

"When my wife died –" he began, uncomfortable talking about such a thing with anyone other than Zoe, but he was beginning to suspect that he and Jackie had more in common than just their love for her daughters. "It was a good three or four hundred years before I found anyone that made me think that what I shared with her could be shared with someone else."

Jackie's eyes shifted out to the ice where Zoe had a look of fierce concentration on her face as Jack attempted to teach her how to stay upright before they tried anything complicated like moving.

"Not Zoe," the Doctor said with a small smile. "I definitely do feel that with her, although I know you don't approve." She snorted lightly but said nothing. "No. She was a friend, someone from home I travelled with for a while. She was the first person after my wife that I felt a connection with on a deeper level. Everyone else before, my friends who I knew would take more if I offered it...it just wasn't the same. They were good people, but it didn't feel right."

"Like you know they're good people but there's somethin' missin'?" Jackie said, the words pulled from her against her will. "Like, I don't know – a spark or somethin'."

"Exactly," he said with a nod. "Like the feeling of coming home and everything's just _right_."

"Yeah," she sighed, her thoughts and feelings put into words. "Just like that."

He picked at the side of his cup with his thumbnail, flicking small pieces of styrofoam away. "Did you have that with Pete?"

"I did," she said without hesitation. "We argued a lot, an' I don't know if we'd still be together now. I like to think we would, but..." she shrugged. "Rose told me you were there...the day he died."

The Doctor tensed before he deliberately relaxed.

"Yeah, we were," he said carefully, and then, unable to resist, – "nice perm you had."

"Oi, you cheeky bugger," Jackie said automatically, and he grinned. She huffed at him, but looked away with a small smile. "S'pose I should say thanks. He didn't die alone because you an' Rose were there."

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It was Rose's idea, and he was a good man was Pete. He was brave and clever. I can see why you'd have trouble moving on."

She swallowed and nodded, keeping her eyes away from him so he couldn't see how her eyes turned glassy. Every time she had a conversation with the Doctor, he always ended up taking her by surprise. Sometimes pleasantly, often times unpleasantly, but there was a slow, dawning realisation that whilst he might be an alien, he was also a man. She didn't like the danger that he put her daughters into, and she didn't like the loyalty and bravery he inspired in them as it meant they were willing to risk everything for him, but she was slowly beginning to see why he was someone that Rose and Zoe chose to be friends with. He could be kind when he wanted to be, and she appreciated that.

The two of them let the conversation drift off into silence, and they stood side-by-side, leaning on the barricade, watching the four friends out on the ice. Music picked up behind them, and the Doctor found himself tapping the rhythm of the song out on side of his cup. He felt relaxed and content, happy to watch Zoe wobble along the ice whilst Jack skated in front of her, hands extended to catch her, and Rose and Mickey cheered out their support. He wasn't sure how he had got so lucky to be surrounded by humans who were his friends and made him a better person. And he definitely wasn't sure how he was so lucky to have someone like Zoe to love and be loved by in return.

It was a future he hadn't envisioned for himself when he stood in his childhood barn and looked down at the Moment. He was certain his life would end there. For a long time he had resented that he hadn't died with Gallifrey, but now he was glad that he had survived. It hurt, and it would always hurt to be the last of his kind, but the universe kept turning and there were still people to meet and befriend and he wanted to do that. He wanted to live.

He turned so that he could lean his back against the barrier, Jackie sparing him a brief glance, and he let his eyes drift over the crowd of people. It always brightened his spirits to see people in large groups enjoying themselves. It was something about the sense and feeling of community that made him feel happy. Time Lords rarely gathered in big groups unless it was for debates or one of his many trials – those always seemed to bring out the crowds – but there was never any need to gather; they could feel each other constantly through the low level telepathy that connected all those born on Gallifrey to each other. No one ever felt alone on Gallifrey; lonely, yes, but never alone. The crowds in London reminded him of that, and he wished he could reach out with his telepathy to feel it when his eyes rested on the orchestra of Santas that were facing him.

He gave them a little cheerful wave only to grab Jackie a split-second later and force her to the ground.

Gunfire burst through the air right where she had been standing, and Jackie screamed in his ear as he covered her body with his. All around them, people started screaming and blades scraped across the ice as they tried to get to safety. The Doctor's leg lashed out and kicked one of the chalkboards that advertised tea and coffee over, using it as a shield against the bullets. He pressed his hand against the ground and raised his head, cursing when the Santas began approaching him in formation.

"Stay down," the Doctor ordered Jackie before pulling himself off of her and throwing himself in front of the weapons-wielding Santas, hands raised, praying it worked. "Don't shoot! I surrender!"


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter Sixty-Two**

Rose screamed as the bullets flew across the ice rink, and Mickey grabbed her and forced her to the ground. Jack lunged for Zoe, intending to do the same, but he missed her when she twisted on the blades of her skates and hit the ground hard. He overshot her and dragged a middle-aged man to the ground instead. The breath slammed from Zoe on impact, and the mild irritation that had been tinged with faint, good-natured amusement at her clumsy attempts to remain upright on the ice disappeared and was replaced by a roiling anger at her inability to move properly. Screams filled the night air, the sound of a roaring fire underlying everything as flame throwers made their appearance, and people desperately tried to get to safety. Those on the ice rink were trapped like animals corralled into a pen; the plastic barriers were no real protection against the bullets and already there were injured lying on the ice, crying out.

She squirmed against the ice until she succeeded in pulling her knees up to her chest so that she could start yanking at the laces on her boots, throwing a desperate look over to where she had last seen the Doctor and Jackie. Alarmingly, but somewhat expectedly, the gunfire was aimed at the side of the rink near the food and drink vendors where they had been leaning moments before. The panic that flared in her at the thought of her mother getting caught in the crossfire faded almost immediately. She knew the Doctor wouldn't let anything happen to Jackie but that didn't mean he wouldn't take a bullet or two in the attempt, and she would rather both of them remained bullet free.

Successfully pulling her skates off, she scrambled to her feet and kept low.

The ice threatened to turn her feet numb as she moved. She was wearing a pair of socks that the Doctor had had in his pockets since she couldn't wear the skates with bare feet. They were a garish pink with bananas dancing across them; he had grinned at her when she took them with a sigh, resigned to loving a man with a peculiar obsession for bananas. She was grateful for them now though as they provided her with just enough protection from the ice that she didn't burn the soles of her feet from the fierce cold. Behind her, Jack shouted her name – a warning to get down. She dropped to her knees and slid the rest of the way, protected by the barricade that she gripped and vaulted over, the muscles in her arms straining.

Her knees shook when she landed, teeth clacking painfully together, but she fell into a smooth roll and tucked herself behind a rubbish bin that was overflowing with chocolate-stained styrofoam cups. All around her there was chaos, and she felt as though she was back on Skaro. She almost laughed as the last few days had really been an exercise in danger and damage control. She just hadn't expected it in London, which was ridiculous considering how both she and Rose had met the Doctor. London seemed to be the epicentre of alien activity in the early 21st century. She peered around the corner when she heard the Doctor's voice boom out, loud and attention-grabbing. He picked himself up from the floor, and Zoe saw a flash of her mother, before he stepped out into the line of fire with his hands raised in the air.

"Don't shoot!" He called out to what looked to be mechanical Santas, but she couldn't be sure from her viewpoint. "I surrender!"

"Son of a bitch," Zoe swore, deeply annoyed with him.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and searched for something that might be useful whilst grumbling about the Doctor's complete lack of self-preservation. It wasn't _that_ difficult to stay out of trouble, yet he managed to plunge himself neck deep into it no matter the situation.

Her fingers searched through the odd bits and bobs in her coat. Over the years, since finding the coat in the wardrobe one cold December day and claiming it as her own, she had accumulated a vast wealth of _stuff_ that populated her pockets. She had once teased the Doctor at the useless trinkets he kept in his but she found that her own pockets tended to fill up and up until she sat down and emptied them when she could be bothered to do so. It was surprising how often a stray pen lid or a forgotten yo-yo came in handy.

She sifted through tampons, a chocolate bar wrapper, scraps of paper with her various thoughts and shopping lists scribbled on them, an actual screwdriver, a bag of boiled sweets, a coil of thin conducting metal, her phone and its charger, and a gun. Her fingers froze around the gun, blood running cold as her mind went blank. For one long, quivering moment, she couldn't think as to why she would have a gun of all things in her pocket before she remembered with a sharp intake of breath. She hadn't given the Corsair her gun back. In between getting ready to leave her TARDIS and emptying her body of radiation, she must have put the gun in her coat and forgotten about it.

She pulled it out and looked down at it. Guns held no attraction for her. She understood their uses and accepted that some people found them convenient, but she had never been in a position where she had needed to rely on a gun until Skaro since normally she could think her way out of any situation such as with the Alfasi in France. She turned it over in her hand and checked the ammunition. It was empty; she had used the last of the Alpha Mezon bursts in the confusion of the firefight on Skaro, but the Corsair's gun ran off a small computer system that ensured misfires wouldn't happen and the safety never failed.

Zoe peeked around the corner of the tree and her stomach tightened.

The Doctor's surrender had gone wrong. He was tussling with the Santas whilst Jackie threw packets of hot nuts at them in an effort to help him but simply seemed to be just confusing the Santas instead. A bubble of laughter rose up through her chest as her mother ducked down and scrambled for another packet, lobbing it at the Santa that was trying to twist the Doctor's arm behind his back. Her aim was off and the Doctor cried out, annoyed, when the hot nuts hit him in the centre of his forehead.

"Oi!"

"Sorry!"

Zoe hunkered down and her thumbs and fingers sped across her phone. There wasn't much she could do with the gun's simplistic computer system but there was one thing that she thought might work. By overriding the basic controls that prevented any accidents, she could create a feedback loop amplified by her phone's battery. It wasn't a perfect solution but it gave her enough juice for one shot, and she hoped that was all she needed. She glanced quickly out over to the ice rink wondering where Jack was as he was normally the first into the fray. Her eyes found him on his knees, hands pressed urgently against the stomach of a pale young woman only a few years older than Rose, blood seeping out onto the ice. Near him, Mickey and Rose were trying to calm frightened teenagers.

"Goddammit," Zoe muttered, and the light on the side of the gun turned green just as the battery on her phone died. She didn't waste any time. She swung around from behind the tree and surged forward with a yell, gun raised before her. "Santas! Let him go!"

The Santas dragged the Doctor with them as they spun to face her as one, his body bent at a painful, awkward angle, but that didn't stop him from squawking at the sight of her in pink banana socks and holding a gun like she knew how to use it.

"What?" The Doctor asked, bewildered. He was so surprised that he stopped struggling for a moment, and the Santa that had him tightly within its grip knocked him to his knees. The impact jarred him, but he only had eyes for Zoe. "Why do you have a gun? Wheredid you even get it?"

He saw the whites of her eyes when she rolled them, irritation flashing across her face at his questions.

"I said let him go," Zoe said firmly, closing the distance between them with steady, even steps. _"Now."_

The Doctor shivered at the tone of her voice.

Jackie screamed out a warning as the Santa closest to her lifted its trombone and made to fire, but she was quicker. Her finger tapped lightly against the trigger and shot the Santa in the chest. There wasn't enough energy in the blast to kill a human, only stun them, but she was relieved when it started to smoke and spark revealing it was an android. She moved forwards quickly, covering the rest of the distance in long strides; the only plan formulating in her head extended to bashing the Santas over the head with the butt of her gun until they let the Doctor go. Fortunately for her dignity, they released him. The Doctor fell forwards, catching himself on the ground. He scrambled back to Zoe who strove to put herself between him and them when they disappeared. A pale blue light swept over them, wrapping around them tightly, before they were teleported away: injured Santa and all.

Slowly, Zoe lowered her gun and looked down at the Doctor who was sat against her leg. "What the hell were they?"

"Roboforms," he answered, massaging his sore shoulder. "They're basically pilot fish."

She rubbed her forehead with the side of her hand and frowned. "So a precursor to a big bad then?"

"Looks like it," he nodded. "I'm not sure what they want though."

"You," she said. "They weren't focused on anyone else, and I didn't see them wrestling with Mum."

The Doctor looked up and gave her a crooked smile. "Reckon your mum would have won though."

She grinned at him just as Jackie came forward to throw herself on them. Zoe was suffocated in the hug, giving the Doctor time to pick himself up only to be dragged down by his lapels to be hugged tightly by her. Zoe laughed at the expression on his face, his arms slowly going around her as though Jackie were as delicate as an unexploded bomb, and he looked relieved when she released him.

"Oh, you daft plum!" Jackie exclaimed. "What d'you go an' throw yourself on me for?"

"If I'd known you'd assault me afterwards, I wouldn't have bothered." The Doctor groused, fooling no one even as his ears turned red and his expression softened. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, you big idiot." She said, glancing around. "Where's –?"

"On the rink," Zoe interrupted, pointing to where people were beginning to pick themselves up, and Rose's head was visible amongst the crowd. "There are injured though. I saw Jack trying to help someone."

"I'll go find a first aid kit," Jackie said, pale and frightened but holding herself together well. She looked up at the Doctor. "You're a doctor. Can't you help?"

"I'm not that type of doctor," he said quietly, and she frowned but moved away to track down medical supplies. He looked around them with a quiet, tense expression on his face. From experience, Zoe knew that meant he was unhappy and his anger was growing. "There are children here."

"We'll find out who did this and why," she promised him, her even tone drawing his eyes to her. "But you need to stay calm."

"I am calm."

"Then you need to not let your anger get the better of you," she cautioned. "This isn't your fault, and we'll deal with who did this when we figure it out. In the meantime, we should get back to the TARDIS once we've helped with the injured. That looked like a short-range teleport to my eyes. There must be a ship nearby."

"Agreed," the Doctor said before he glanced at her hand. "Why do you have a gun?"

"It's not mine," she said, easing her grip on it and sliding it back into her pocket. Her palm tingled from the aftershock of the energy feedback, and she stretched her fingers out. "I accidentally stole it from the Corsair. Forgot I had it in my pocket until just now."

"Why were you even using a gun with the Corsair?"

Zoe stared at him. "Because I was on Skaro. Remember? I'm pretty sure we had a long conversation about this last night."

"Right, okay, yeah," he said, because that had been a stupid question. "Are you keeping it?"

"Of course I'm not keeping it," she said on the edge of exasperation. "What would I even do with a gun? The Corsair had to tell me not to point it at her I'm so useless with one. I'll get rid of it when I can, so you can stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want to loudly disapprove but also avoid an argument," Zoe said pointedly. He frowned. She reached out and touched his hand. "I don't like guns, Doctor. That hasn't changed."

The Doctor's expression softened, and he turned his palm into hers. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous."

"Maybe a little," she agreed with a small, fond smile. "But you have more reason than most to hate guns. I'll toss it into a supernova the first chance I get."

"Thank you," he said sincerely, tension slipping from his body. "I just – seeing you with a gun, it didn't look right."

"I know," she said, thinking back to Van Statten's bunker and how wrong he had looked with a gun in his hands. "How about we agree that guns are only acceptable if Daleks are involved?"

His mouth twitched. "I think that's fair."

She released his hand to go and help where she could. All around them, people were beginning to pick themselves up and look around fearfully. London wasn't a stranger to random outbreaks of violence but it was never easy to be involved in it. Zoe removed a clean handkerchief from her pocket and used it to help mop up the nose bleed of a pregnant woman who had fallen face first when the shooting started. She held onto her protruding stomach with fear etched across her face, and Zoe murmured some gentle words of encouragement before she moved on. There were a number of injured on the floor who needed help, gasping as people applied pressure to bullet wounds whilst blood seeped out onto the ground.

They stayed until the emergency services arrived. Jack helped transfer his young woman into the back of an ambulance, smiling charmingly at her that made her blush despite the fact that she was losing blood, and they hurriedly regrouped and left just as the news crews arrived. The BBC, ITV, and Channel 5 began unpacking their equipment and rushing over to interview traumatised eye witnesses by shoving microphones into their faces. They kept their heads down so they didn't attract any attention and didn't speak until they reached South Kensington tube station.

"What the hell was that?" Jack asked once they were swallowed up by the crush of people, vigorously wiping the blood from his hands with a handful of the wet wipes that Jackie carried in her bag. "And who the hell were they?"

"No idea," the Doctor said. "But they've been following us all day."

"You never said," Rose looked up at him before she scowled at a woman who jostled her when she pushed past.

"I didn't notice until it was too late," he replied, annoyed with himself. He'd been distracted by the feeling of happiness at being with people he liked and by the memories of his night with Zoe. "But they were just the start of something. I've seen them before, they're called Roboforms. They go off in advance of aggressive species to scout out the terrain and eliminate any problems."

"You're definitely the biggest problem here," Mickey said and the Doctor raised his eyebrows. "I mean, you're the biggest threat, right? It's not like we have anythin' that could fight back against an alien invasion unless they do what the Slitheen did."

"I suppose," he said, considering Mickey's point. "But they didn't want to kill me. They wanted something from my pockets. They were frisking me quite violently."

"What have you got in your pockets?" Jackie asked before her nose wrinkled. "It's not alien stuff, is it?"

"Course it's alien, except for the Jelly Babies. Those are human," the Doctor said, and she pulled a face. He rooted through his pockets as they descended a large flight of busy steps. "I don't think there's anything in here, but I once found the Hope Diamond in my pockets a few centuries back, so who knows?"

"Whilst we're on the somewhat related subject of people and things trying to kill you," Zoe said, digging out her Oyster card to pass through the barriers. "Since I've devoted a not inconsiderable amount of my time ensuring that you stay alive, I don't suppose you could _not_ throw yourself so carelessly in front of creatures with guns that want to kill you?"

He looked up from his excavation of his pockets, startled. "I thought it would help."

"How?" She demanded with a look over her shoulder at him. "How did you flinging your arms around like an epileptic octopus help matters?"

Rose laughed before turning it into a cough at the sight of the Doctor's face.

"They stopped shooting, didn't they?"

"Only because they were too busy trying to mug you."

"Rather me than anyone else," he replied, an uncomfortable, itchy feeling pressing into his chest at the realisation that he and Zoe were fighting.

And not the fun kind of fighting that he enjoyed, but rather the type that led to arguments and hurt feelings.

"God!" She exclaimed loudly, startling the people around her. She whirled around and jabbed her finger at him, stopping just before she poked his chest. They all stopped and made the sea of people part around them, earning tuts and angry curses. "You know, heroics might be an attractive trait in the films but in real life, it's just ridiculous. No one needs you to throw yourself in front of every passing bullet, Doctor."

"I – that's not – why are you picking a fight?" He said, struggling for his words. "Everything turned out all right, didn't it?"

"Oh, did it?" She asked, sarcasm filling her voice, and he looked confused. Her anger surprised even her. "Just like everything turned out all right on the Game Station despite you having exactly _no_ plan. But, hey! Let's not worry. If you get riddled with bullets or kidnapped, I'm sure I can spend the next four years figuring out how to save you again. That's really not a problem!"

The Doctor felt that it really was a problem judging from her tone, but he had just enough common sense not to say that to her. He opened his mouth to say something that he hoped would put an end to the argument, but instead he made everything much worse.

"I never asked you to save me, Zoe."

Jack breathed in sharply, and Rose gasped; Mickey's mouth dropped open, and Jackie's face fell into a dark glare.

"No, wait –" the Doctor said, regretting his words instantly and scrambling to find a way to put it right.

Her eyes were like flint when she stared at him. Her lips tightened, compressing whatever swear word she wanted to fling at him, and she turned on her heels and strode off. Shame curled through him, twisting itself around his regret. He avoided the eyes of his friends, not wanting to see their disappointed looks. He wished he could pull his thoughtless words back into his mouth but they were out there between him and Zoe now with the power to poison what they had just started. His mouth felt dry, and his head began to throb.

 _Stupid Doctor_ he raged at himself as Jackie shouldered past him, taking care to knock into his shoulder as hard as she could, before she hurried off after her daughter.

Mickey shook his head. "An' you call me the idiot."

* * *

The TARDIS was a welcome sight as Zoe walked swiftly across the courtyard of the estate. She had a five-minute head start on the Doctor as she had been able to jump onto the tube waiting at the platform, shouldering past various people and earning looks of annoyance and sharp words of rebuke but she didn't care. She had just wanted to make sure that there was some distance between her and the Doctor so that he didn't see how she burned with hurt and anger at his careless words. She doubted he meant it the way it sounded when the words left his mouth: dismissive, annoyed, and patronising. With that one throwaway sentence, he had made her feel like she was seventeen years old again: inexperienced and naïve. Her belief that he didn't mean it to hurt her, and her realisation that part of her had been picking a fight for reasons she didn't fully understand, didn't stop her from feeling that pain.

She hated that such words would even occur to him in the first place when he knew what the act of saving him and Jack had cost her.

She felt sick as she removed her key and opened up the TARDIS. There was a tight band of tension knotting itself together in her temples – a tell-tale sign that a painful headache was forming. She shut the door behind her and leant back against it, closing her eyes to sigh. Tears of frustration pressed against her closed eyes but she refused to cry. She had seen Jackie and Rose shed too many tears for men over her lifetime, and she didn't want to shed any more over the Doctor. At least not when he was being a thoughtless idiot. There was a gentle, querying nudge in the back of her mind from the TARDIS, and a small smile came to her lips at the quiet care the TARDIS took of her.

"The Doctor," Zoe said by way of explanation. "He's been back twenty-four hours and he's already being a git."

Sympathy pricked at the back of her mind, and she pushed away from the door. She shrugged out of her coat and hung it up on the novelty coat rack she had found in the wardrobe. It was tall and made of a material that resembled ivory with carvings of what she first thought was ducks but, some months later, discovered were the native inhabitants of Cresco. She had thought she was having a stroke when she stepped out of the TARDIS in search of a particular mineral to power the Delta Wave generator and a duck spoke to her. Crescians, she reminded herself, fingers lightly touching the carvings; charming people when not pecking through her pockets.

"What do you say to running away with me?" Zoe asked, moving up the ramp, tossing her phone back and forth between her hands. "Leave the old man behind and have some adventures, just us girls?"

A light flashed, and Zoe laughed.

"We'd have fun, wouldn't we?" She mused, placing her phone against a port on the console to charge it. "And no idiot men hurting our feelings."

She shook her head. It wasn't the time to lament the Doctor's poor choice of words or her apparent resentment over the last four years. Instead, she focused her attention on trying to find out where the Roboforms had been transported to. The last time she had encountered short-range teleports was on Earth with Reinette when the Alfasi were converting local children into energy to fuel their ships. She had studied the technology at university, but it wasn't something that had interested her since it didn't seem like it would be useful to her. What she did remember was that short-range teleports could be stretched to cover some distances but, often, they were simply for orbital transports. She knew it was unlikely that a ship was in orbit of Earth without the TARDIS pinging a warning to them, but it was the best place to start scanning.

"The thing I don't get," Zoe said, talking out loud, "is why not kill the Doctor? He's clearly a threat, so why just try and mug him? The only thing of value he has on him at any given time is the sonic screwdriver, but that can't be strong enough to attract the attention of a passing ship otherwise I'd have been inundated with them in France."

She rapped her knuckles against the edge of the console and pressed her tongue hard against her cheek, thinking.

"Can you show me the information that is available in the database on Roboforms, please?" She asked politely, and the computer screen flashed to life.

She stood in front of it and skim-read the words – a mixture of English and Gallifreyan – that rolled across the screen.

Roboforms were androids that were, as the Doctor said, pilot fish for bigger, nastier species. They typically travelled just in front of species that liked to invade other planets so that they could scavenge for technology before the planet was overrun and either enslaved or wiped out. The Santa outfits that they used were part of their disguise. Since they rarely looked like the species that stole from, they were adept at researching local culture and finding ways to blend into their surroundings. The information said that they searched for technology in order to compliment their existing technology; it seemed that they didn't have the facilities or the knowledge to improve their systems and so they augmented them with stolen technology. It was clever, and Zoe would have been impressed if they didn't use approaching genocide as a means to solve their problems.

"See, this doesn't make sense," Zoe said as the door opened and the others walked in, shaking the cold off. "If they're scavengers then what do they want with Earth? Their technology is way beyond anything we have now."

"Who are you talkin' to?" Rose asked, peeling off her various layers.

"The TARDIS," she replied, "and myself."

Her eyes met the Doctor's. He looked apologetic and uncertain, as though preparing himself for a storm of anger thrown in his direction, but she just frowned at him. A thought niggled at her, and she followed the thread. The sonic screwdriver wasn't powerful enough to send signals out into space unless deliberately programmed to do so; the TARDIS, thanks to the Chameleon Circuit, gave off the same amount of energy that a 1960s police public call box did. The only way to look for a TARDIS was to know that it was already there and know the general location of it. She pushed away from the console and moved forward with smooth, decisive strides. Jack and Mickey jumped out of the way, and the Doctor braced himself.

"Empty your pockets," Zoe ordered, and he stared at her.

"What?"

"Your pockets," she repeated. "Turn them out."

"Why?" Jack asked, helping Mickey out of his coat with a flashing, charming smile that made Mickey falter. "What are you thinking?"

"The Roboforms are just pilot fish like the Doctor said," Zoe said as Rose held out her hands and the Doctor began placing the contents of his pockets there, listening whilst he did so. "But they had to find something on this planet worth scavenging. Just the like the big bad that are coming behind them. If we believe the theory that the reason aliens haven't visited us properly is because humans are developed enough to register any interest on their computers, then why are they focused on us now? What's different about us right now, in this moment?"

"The Doctor?" Rose suggested, gesturing at the TARDIS. "The TARDIS?"

"Not quite," she said. "Because he's been in and out of Earth's history for centuries. Why haven't aliens invaded before then?"

"A few of them have," the Doctor interjected. "But, to be fair, that's generally been a little bit my fault."

"A little bit?" Jackie asked sceptically, and Zoe's mouth twitched.

"No, the thing that is different about today of all days is me," Zoe said, and the Doctor looked up, startled. "Well, not me so much as what I built: the Delta Wave generator."

He stared at her. "What do you mean?"

She held out her hand. "I know you have it in your pocket. That's not something you'd leave lying around, and you've got a magpie mind. Shiny, fun pieces of technology are things that you like to fiddle with. I need to look at it and check something."

For something he had put in his pocket only that morning, simply as a thought to save it from being knocked to the ground in the kitchen, it had buried itself deep. He eventually unearthed it, sending a bag of stale Jelly Babies to the ground, and he handed it over to her. She turned it over in her hands and tried to discover if something was amiss with it. She slid open one of the side panels and peered inside. She grunted, annoyed, and crossed the room to her coat. She dug around in her pockets and removed an oblong case. She cracked it open and slipped a pair of reading glasses onto her nose, her vision correcting itself.

"You wear glasses?" Rose asked, surprised.

"Only for things like this," Zoe answered, distracted. "I strained my eyes in my second year, I think. I was reading things off a screen and it scrambled my vision a little. I haven't bothered getting them corrected yet."

"You look good," Jack said, and she glanced up with raised eyebrows. He winked at her, and she grinned before her amusement drained from her face.

"Shit," Zoe swore. "This has been turned on. Bollocks."

"What?" The Doctor asked, moving to stand by her. She angled it so that he could see the delicate circuit board within, pointing with her little finger.

"See this filament here?" She said. He nodded. "It shouldn't be connecting with this wire; it shouldn't actually be connecting to anything at all. It must have been knocked lose either when I used it at the Game Station or from being in your pocket all day. It's been low-level broadcasting for who knows how long."

"Right," he said. "That explains the attempted mugging."

"Do you have tweezers or something similar in your pockets?"

"I do," Jack said, removing a small beauty kit that he passed over. She looked at him questioningly. "What? You think I wake up looking this good?"

Zoe blinked. "Actually...yeah."

"I assumed you've augmented yourself in some way," the Doctor said with a small shrug. "Because _this –_ " he gestured at Jack's body and face, "can't be simply genetics."

"I just thought all blokes from the 51st century were this handsome," Rose said with a cheeky grin, leaning into Jack who beamed down at her.

"It's a combination of healthy living, a touch of cosmetic surgery, and a daily skincare routine that takes about an hour," Jack explained, nodding at the kit in Zoe's hands. "That's just for emergencies."

"What sort of –? You know what?" The Doctor stopped himself. "It's not important."

Zoe removed the pair of tweezers from the case and worked the filament lose. It had soldered itself onto the wire, which made her think that it had been an overload at the Game Station that caused the problem and not its journey in the Doctor's pocket. She should have looked it over as soon as they got back to Earth, but she had allowed herself to be distracted. She blew on the circuit board and handed the beauty kit back to Jack with her thinks. She held her hand out for the sonic screwdriver and set about making sure that all the systems were shut down and couldn't accidentally be switched back on. Its use as a weapon was over, but she was sure the Doctor could think of something else to do with it if he wanted.

"Right," she sighed, giving him the generator back. "It would appear that I've accidentally called down a horde of invading aliens on this planet because I didn't check to see if everything was turned off."

"It's not your fault," the Doctor said. "You weren't to know the filament was knocked loose."

"I should have checked," she said, removing her glasses. "But I didn't because I thought everything was finished with."

"Don't beat yourself up about it," he told her seriously. "We'll figure out a way to handle whatever's coming."

She rubbed her mouth and nodded.

"Wait, hold on," Mickey said, confused, barely keeping up. Jackie had long since given up on following the thread of technical conversation and was quietly flicking through the computer looking for the BBC News channel to hear what had to be said about the attack. "Why's it a problem? I thought that thing isn't a radio. How can it attract attention if it's just a generator for...things?"

"It may not be a radio, but I built it to broadcast a signal," Zoe explained. "A very powerful signal. Even running in the background as it was, it's more than strong enough to attract the attention of any passing ship, particularly because it's nothing like the technology here on Earth. It's been sending out for however long saying that there's something of interest here."

"She's right," the Doctor agreed. "This device was powerful enough to destroy half a million Daleks when combined with the energy of the TARDIS. Between the empty broadcast and the lingering TARDIS energy it's running off, it's no wonder we've had some interest."

"All right," Mickey nodded, more or less understanding the simplified technobabble. "Then what do we do now?"

"We figure out how to stop an alien invasion," the Doctor said simply and Mickey stared at him.

"So it's up to us then?" He clarified. "Just us? Last time with the Slitheen wasn't a one-off? We just figure it out on our own and not get involved with the governments?"

Jack clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. "Pretty much."

"We really don't have a lot to do with governments," Zoe said thoughtfully. "We sort of just turn up and fix things. The best thing we can do now is try and figure out what species is on its way and how we can stop them."

"Sounds like we're goin' to need some tea," Rose said. "Micks, come help me carry them."

"Make mine a coffee, ta!" Zoe called out as her sister left the room. She glanced at the Doctor and Jack. "I've been trying to scan the solar system for the ship but nothing's coming up on the sensors. No shuttle, no debris, nothing. I'm not getting a single ping."

"I might be able to do something," Jack said. "A little trick I've picked up over the years. Doc, can you help me hack into the satellites in orbit? And Zo, can you find a way to boost the power of those satellites."

"Don't run the TARDIS through them," the Doctor said, working at the keyboard and activating the secondary computer screen so that he didn't have to disturb Jackie who was watching the BBC London news report. "That'll draw even more attention."

"Since I'm not actually an idiot, I wasn't going to do that," Zoe said pointedly, and Jack looked up towards the ceiling, wishing that he wasn't physically between them. The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but she continued talking. "I'm just going to temporarily divert the national power grid and run it through the TARDIS. I can beam it out and mask its origin."

"Good idea," he said carefully, but her face simply tightened with displeasure.

"Well, this is awkward," Jack said lightly. "I'm just going to take a step back until you're ready for me. Please feel free to continue your argument in private."

The Doctor watched Jack step back and sit next to Jackie, striking up a conversation with her so as to drown out any whispered argument that he and Zoe decided to share. He looked across to her; she was determinedly not looking at him, her attention apparently completely focused on the task at her. He took one careful step closer to her and, when she didn't move away or snap at him, he took another and another until they were standing side by side. It was hardly his first argument with Zoe, and he doubted it would be his last. He hated the fact that he was the cause of the tension between them and wanted to put it right as soon as possible whilst also giving her space if she wanted it.

"I'm sorry for what I said," the Doctor apologised quietly. "It came out wrong and wasn't at all what I meant."

"What did you mean?" She asked him. "Because there's not a lot of wriggle room in what you said for it mean a lot of other things."

"I'm not sure what I meant," he admitted. "I just knew that I didn't enjoy fighting with you and I wanted it to be over."

"So you chose to be hurtful to end the argument?"

"No." He shook his head. "I didn't know I was going to say that until I said it."

"Is it something you've been thinking?" Zoe asked him, raising her eyes finally. "Do you wish I hadn't come for you?"

"Of course not," the Doctor said, reaching for her and he was relieved when she didn't jerk her elbow out from under his touch. "How could you think that?"

"Maybe I did save you and you didn't want it," she said. "Maybe this was your way of just – of finding peace. I know how much you've been struggling with the Time War. Maybe I got in the way of something that you –"

"Stop," he said firmly, voice pained. "I – I wasn't trying to kill myself. It wasn't some swan song, and I am grateful that you came for me. I'll always be grateful for that. I don't want to die, Zo. Yeah, I'll admit, there was a time when I wanted to, of course there was, but not any more. Not since you and Rose and Jack. You three saved my life, and I want to –"

The computer beeped, interrupting him. They both looked down at it, startled.

"Jack, you're up." Zoe said, clearing her throat and turning away from the Doctor. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to bounce the satellites off the surface of Ganymeade," Jack explained, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms as Roes and Mickey came back to the console room with a tray of tea and a cup of coffee for Zoe. "It has a magnetic field that I might be able to use to twist the scanning range around Mars and Jupiter."

"That's really clever," Zoe said, leaning over and watching the process with interest. The Doctor passed a hand across his mouth and let their argument remain unfinished for now. "Where did you learn this?"

"First year out of the Academy," he replied, "my partner and I were tracking a a crew of Terrellian convicts that had taken control of their ship, which was taking them to Stormcage –"

"Stormcage?"

"A containment facility mainly for temporally-confusing criminals," Jack explained. "They got away from us for a while and I was determined to catch them because it was my first big assignment, and my partner suggested something similar to this. I fine-tuned the process and we caught them."

"Nicely done," she smiled and he grinned.

"What is it you lot say in this century?" He asked. "Bango?"

"Think you mean bingo, mate," Mickey said, handing him a cup of tea and Zoe her coffee.

"Bingo, then," Jack said, nodding at the screen. "I've got something here. I'm running it through the TARDIS now."

"Well done, captain," The Doctor said, impressed. "That was very good."

"Not just a pretty face," he winked, and the Doctor snorted.

It didn't take long for the TARDIS to throw up a dozen possible matches. The Doctor sifted through them, discarding species that he knew no longer existed or weren't at the correct stage of technological development for the time. He touched the screen and threw the image outwards, projecting it onto the main wall. They all looked at it, except for Jackie who was watching the BBC News with a quiet focus, a frown slowly growing on her forehead.

"Who are they?" Rose asked, staring up at the creatures that were reflected on the wall.

The creatures thrown up before them were tall, at almost seven feet, and reptilian in appearance. They had a skull-like visage due to their exoskeletons that covered part of their head and face, making it look as though their reddened skin was turned inside out and exposed to the elements. They had no lips, merely skin that turned in on itself to revealing slightly sharpened teeth, making them look as though they were perpetually snarling. Hair appeared to be optional as it was with humans; some had long hair that was twisted into braids, and others had none at all. They were dressed in a dark clothes that were suitable for fighting, bones hanging on necklaces around their necks; the one splash of colour was their long, red capes that fell down the length of their backs.

All in all, appropriately terrifying for a species that was about to attempt an invasion of planet Earth.

"The Sycorax," the Doctor said in response to Rose's question. "A superstitious race of galactic warriors and plunderers. Very difficult to negotiate with since they don't actually have a word for peace in their language. They're pretty much snarling space gangsters and that's on a good day. On a bad day, they've been known to leave nothing behind."

"So we won't be able to ask them to kindly leave?" Jack asked, one arm bent and resting on Mickey's shoulder. "Well, isn't that a shame."

"We need to deal with this before anyone on Earth realises that they're coming," the Doctor said, a hint of urgency creeping into his voice. "I don't want a repeat of the Slitheen incident with nuclear weapons flying."

"Reckon you're too late there," Jackie said, and the Doctor started. She had been so quiet that he forgot she was there. She pointed at the TV. "Think the whole world already knows."

"What?"

He hurried to her and peered at the screen. It turned out that they needn't have spent time on investigating and searching for answers since Guinevere One, a space probe built in Britain by the European Space Agency, had actually stumbled upon the answers. It showed a brief, flashing image of a Sycorax that was undeniably alien. There was no avoiding the truth as there was last time when the Slitheen attack had been filed away as a hoax. Everyone knew that Guinevere One was destined for Mars, and there was no explaining the face of the Sycorax that was being beamed around the world away. The Doctor felt tension centre in the base of his spine. Earth wasn't ready for first contact with alien species; at least not on a planetary scale. The governments were still disparate and often at odds with one another. He doubted they would be able to reach a consensus before the Sycorax arrived and that meant that 192 individual countries would be scrambling to be involved.

"Perhaps," Zoe began as they all re-evaluated the options before them, "we should consider reaching out to Harriet. She's Prime Minister now and may be able to calm the international leaders if she knows that we're here helping."

The Doctor considered the idea. "At least we know she doesn't like blowing stuff up."

"Although she was willing to last time," she pointed out unhelpfully. "Even if it meant dying."

He see-sawed his head back and forth. "Extenuating circumstances. All of Earth would have been destroyed if we hadn't risked it. Can you get in touch with her?"

Zoe checked her watch and saw that it was a little after midnight. "Alistair is really going to start resenting me for these late-night calls. He's meant to be retired."

The Doctor scoffed. "He wouldn't know retirement if it danced naked in front of him. Wake the old sod up."

She rolled her eyes but made the call regardless.

* * *

 _UNIT Headquarters,_

 _The Tower of London_

Harriet Jones stood at the clear glass windows and looked out onto UNIT headquarters. Despite the fact that it was thirty minutes into Christmas, the work space was busier than it normally was. People had been pulled from their beds and the warmth hearth of their families to attend to the alien threat. She wasn't certain it was a threat, of course, but something in her gut told her that it was. She had learnt to trust her gut after that terrifying experience in Downing Street when all she wanted to do was discuss Cottage Hospitals with the Prime Minister. It felt like a lifetime ago, and in many ways it was. She was a different person then, and now she was leader of her country. She smoothed her hand down over her jacket as Major Blake brought the scientists in.

"Mr Llewellyn, ma'am," he said, prompt and pleasantly efficient.

He inclined his head and left them to it.

Harriet removed her ID and flashed it to Llewellyn. "Harriet Jones, Prime Minister."

"Oh, well, yes," he stammered, "I know who you are. I suppose I've ruined your Christmas."

"Nonsense," she said briskly. "I'm never off duty. Now, we've put out a cover story. Alex has been handling it."

She gestured to her personal aide who was so much more than his job description described him as.

"We've said it was a hoax," Alex explained politely. "Some sort of mask or prosthetics. Students hi-jacking the signal, that sort of thing."

"Alex is my right hand man," Harriet informed Llewellyn before directing a fond smile at Alex. "I'm not used to having a right hand man. I quite like it, though."

He smiled back at her, his eyes creasing warmly in the corners "I quite like it myself."

"I don't suppose there's any chance it was a hoax?" Llewellyn asked hopefully. His mouth felt dry and his palms were sweating.

"That would be nice, wouldn't it?" She replied sympathetically. "Then we could all go home. I don't suppose anyone's offered you a coffee?"

He shook his head. "No."

Harriet moved to pour him a cup from the coffee machine that was attached to the wall in the corner. She plucked a simple mug stamped with the UNIT logo up and poured the fragrant liquid into it. She wanted a cup herself but her doctor had told her she needed to ease back on her caffeine consumption and so she was allowed only two cups a day; a limit that she regularly exceeded with no small measure of guilt.

"The transmission was genuine," she said before glancing back over her shoulder, a question on her face. "Milk?"

He blinked, unused to prime ministers making him coffee. "Er – yes, thank you."

"And this does seems to be a new species of alien," Harriet said, adding the milk and watching it soften the colour, blooming outwards. She gave it a stir and turned around. "At least, not one we've encountered before."

She held the cup of coffee out to him. He took it with hands that trembled slightly. "You seem to be talking about aliens as a matter of fact."

"Let's just say there's an Act of Parliament banning my autobiography," she said lightly. She wasn't sure what she would write in an autobiography if she was honest with herself. Her life had been dull and routine until ten months ago. "But the fact remains that aliens are a reality we need to face, Mr Llewellyn, so I suggest you come to terms with that as quickly as possible."

The door opened and Major Blake stood framed within the doorway. "Prime Minister, you're needed."

"I'm right with you, major," she nodded. "Mr Llewellyn, please join us."

Harriet followed Major Blake out of the private room. The noise washed over her immediately and she enjoyed the sound of people hard at work. It was much nicer than the sound of Parliament, which she always felt would benefit from stricter controls so that debates weren't dragged down by the jeers and cheers from the benches. Prime Minister's questions twice a week were the worst part of her job as she could barely hear herself think let alone what the Leader of the Opposition was saying to her. She missed the sounds of an office, and it made her think fondly of her small, somewhat cluttered constituency office in Flydale North were the heating never seemed to work when she needed it to and the window in the bathroom was stuck in one position.

Blake led her towards a young woman in her early twenties with her blonde hair cut into a severe bob that made her look older. "Miss Jacobs can explain the situation."

"I don't think we've been introduced," Harriet said, removing her ID card again. "Harriet Jones, Prime Minister."

"Yes, I know who you are," Sally said, and Harriet doubted that she would ever get used to people knowing who she was just by sight. "The transmission didn't come from the surface of Mars. Guinevere One was broadcasting from a point five thousand miles above the planet."

"In other words," Major Blake translated, "they've got a ship and the probe is on board."

"But if they're not from the surface, then they might not be from Mars itself," Llewellyn said, and Harriet was pleased to see that he had quickly adapted to the situation. "Maybe they're not actual Martians."

"Of course not, Martians look completely different," Blake said with a dry humour that Harriet was coming to appreciate. Llewellyn stared at him, ignorant to the fact a joke had just been made. "We think the ship was in flight when they just came across the probe."

"And they're moving, _quickly,_ " Sally said. "The ship's still in flight now. We've got it on the Hubble array."

Harriet looked at the screen before her. "Moving in which direction?"

"Towards us."

"How fast?"

"Very fast."

Harriet pressed her lips together as she stared up at the screen. "What was your name, again?"

"Sally, ma'am."

"Thank you, Sally," she said quietly, contemplating what to do and uncertain of the path to take.

Since winning the election, Harriet had gained access to a vast trove of information that she couldn't have imagined was real before the Slitheen. UNIT had records that stretched back decades, and she was still sifting through them. It wasn't the first time planet Earth had been the subject to passing alien species with a point to prove, and every time Earth had managed to beat them back but they always had help. The Doctor was always there in some form or another, working alongside humanity to help keep the world safe. She wondered where he was now. She knew that he was travelling with Zoe Tyler, but the recent situation that had required Zoe to reach out to UNIT for help troubled her. It meant that she didn't know if the Doctor was safe or still in danger. She considered her other options: UNIT, whilst admirable, was primarily a scientific operation that was run through funding from the military. There were no weapons created in the labs of UNIT as they focused on advances in technology aimed at improving society and urging human development forwards.

What she needed was a fail-safe plan, something she could use in the event that diplomacy and luck failed.

What she needed was Torchwood.

"Alex," Harriet said and her aide stepped up to her side. "Get Yvonne Hartman on the phone."

Alex hesitated. "Ma'am?"

"I want to be prepared," she said, and he hesitated for a moment longer before he nodded.

"Yes, ma'am."

Harriet pressed a hand discreetly against her stomach. Torchwood was a dark, bitter secret handed down from sovereign to sovereign, and Prime Minister to Prime Minister. It represented the cruelty of Britain rather than the glory of it, no matter what Yvonne Hartman told herself. Yet Harriet hesitated over ordering its closure. She had plenty of reason to see it shut down: there was no oversight, billions of pounds of taxpayers money was funnelled into it every year, and it perpetuated a Britain-first mentality that she found personally distasteful. Still, she kept it running. She wondered if she had known that a day like this was coming and that was why she allowed Torchwood to continue its operations.

She wondered what that said about her.

"Ma'am," Major Blake interrupted her thoughts, and she jerked around to look at him. He held a corded phone in one hand. "I have Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart on the line. He says that Zoe Tyler would like to speak with you at your earliest convenience."

Relief flooded through Harriet, and she couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across her face.

"Absolutely," she said without missing a second. "Find out where the dear girl is and have her and whoever she is with brought here immediately."

"Yes, ma'am," he nodded, returning to the phone call.

Harriet looked up at the screen where the satellites tracked the ship and breathed out.

Planet Earth would survive this.


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter Sixty-Three**

Jack glanced back over his shoulder, discreetly so that the Doctor didn't see him, and he caught Mickey's eyes who gave him an amused grin. For the last twenty minutes, ever since Zoe received confirmation that a car was coming to collect them, the Doctor had been behaving like a father leaving his child behind with a babysitter. He kept running through lists of what needed to be done in a number of increasingly ludicrous situations. Jack doubted that the Daleks would make an appearance and he wasn't even sure that the Lucretians were capable of space flight, but he didn't plan on telling the Doctor that. He listened until the Doctor started repeating himself, at which point he let his mind wander. He was a little disappointed that he wasn't going to visit UNIT with the Doctor and Zoe, but since Jackie and Rose would be returning to the flat to begin preparations for Christmas dinner – apparently some preparation needed to be done the night before – Jack was hopeful that he would be able to persuade Mickey to stay behind with him.

He didn't expect anything to happen. Mickey seemed to like him, and he occasionally got a hint of the possibility of something more, but regardless of Jack's interest in getting him into bed and exploring his dark skin with his tongue, he was a friend first and foremost. He felt immeasurably guilty over nearly strangling Mickey that morning and wanted the opportunity to make it up to him. He was still unfamiliar with a large number of Christmas traditions that Rose and Zoe took for granted, but there were one or two traditions from his own childhood that he felt Mickey might enjoy. If all else failed, he would ask Mickey to show him the video games that seemed popular in the 21st century.

Either way, it was a nice way to spend the night, and he was privately grateful for the reprieve.

After having to deal with the Daleks, he was happy to put his feet up for a bit. He also felt that dealing with an alien invasion was the perfect way to heal the small, unexpected rift between Zoe and the Doctor.

"I've got it," Jack assured the Doctor when he finally paused to take a breath. "I'll track Zoe's phone to make sure that I have a lock on you at all times, and if anything looks out of the ordinary, I'll bring the calvary."

"Good man," the Doctor said after a moment's hesitation. His large hand clapped Jack on the shoulder, warming him with the affirmation. The Doctor turned and found Rose standing directly behind him. He jerked back in surprise. "Hello."

"I want to come with you," Rose told him, her mascara smudged around the corners of her eyes, flaking from being applied for so long. "I don't see why I have to stay behind an' Zoe gets to go with you."

"Zoe's coming with me because UNIT already knows who she is," he told her, hands on her shoulders to move her out the way. He began to fill his pockets again with the objects he had taken out of them earlier. He tossed his yo-yo up in the air and caught it deftly, dropping it on top of a jigsaw piece. "I like UNIT, they're a good bunch of people, but I also don't want them knowing anything more about you than they already do. Keeping you and Jack here out of their sights makes me feel better. So can you please stay here for me?"

He knew that he was playing dirty, but her expression wavered and she sighed heavily.

"Fine!" She conceded, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Though we did all agree yesterday not to be split up again, an' now here we are – splittin' up."

"We're not splitting up," the Doctor said, "we're on the same planet. We're even in the same city."

"That's not the point an' you know it," Rose sighed. Her arms stretched out from her side in a large shrug before they fell back sharply against her. "What if somethin' goes wrong? What if the Sycorax actually invade?"

"Then I need you, Jack, Mickey, and Jackie in here just in case I need the TARDIS," he said. "I deactivated the recall subroutine a few months back whilst doing some maintenance, and I've kept forgetting to turn it back on –"

She looked at him like he was daft. "Then turn it back on."

"Not as easy as flicking a switch," the Doctor said. He turned back to face her, his pockets full once more, and he reached out to give the end of her blonde hair a gently tug. Against her will, a smile appeared. "Remember? Nothing can get through those doors, not even –"

"Ghengis Khan." She rolled her eyes as a mockery of his accent spilled out of her. "AN' believe me he's tried."

Jack snorted behind them, and the Doctor grinned.

"Honestly, it's going to be really boring," he said. "I'm just going to make sure that you humans don't do something stupid like try and blow them up. I'm really just taking Zoe for the company."

"Oh, are you?" Zoe asked, emerging from the depths of the TARDIS with Jackie at her side, sounding deeply unimpressed.

He jumped again and whirled around. "What is it with you Tyler women? How do you move so quietly?"

"For me, it's a combination of yoga and sneakiness," she replied. She had changed her clothes, dirty from being in them all day, and the white of her thick white jumper set off her skin colour nicely. Her eyes flicked him up and down. "If you only need my company, maybe I should stay here."

"That's not what I meant," he said quickly, floundering. "What I meant was –"

"I'm sure whatever bumbling excuse you're about to come up with for your latest bout of rudeness will be very interesting," she cut him off dryly, "but the car is here. So can we please leave now?"

His tongue felt too big for his mouth.

"Right, yeah, of course. Tally-ho," he grimaced. "Nope, absolutely not, I'm never saying that again."

Zoe just sighed and walked past him. She left the TARDIS without saying another word, and Jackie looked up at him.

"Is there a reason you keep stickin' your foot in your mouth tonight?" She asked him. "Did you knock your stupid alien head on somethin'?"

"No, I'm just a stupid alien," the Doctor said, looking miserable before he straightened his jacket. "Stay safe you lot. And don't wander too far from the TARDIS. This is the safest place on Earth right now."

"Go," Jack said, leaning back against the console. "We'll call if anything happens. And try not to do anything else to annoy Zoe tonight. She looks like she's one more comment away from shoving you into the Thames."

The Doctor left the TARDIS and found Zoe waiting for him in the back seat, exchanging small talk with the driver who, upon seeing him, leapt out of the car to open the door for him. He slid into the back seat and looked across to Zoe. She raised her eyebrows and nodded to the seatbelt. He fumbled with it before strapping himself in. The silence stretched between them as the driver eased out of the estate and onto the lamp-lit roads; London was under a cover of artificial light and the streets were empty as most of London were fast asleep in their beds. He imagined that most missed the broadcast of alien pictures simply because it had happened late at night. They would wake up in the morning to a new world.

"This takes me back," the Doctor said to break the silence between them. She looked back from the window and over to him. "Remember? The first day we met?"

A smile broke out across her face. "I remember thinking you were completely mad. Particularly when you started going on about – oh, god, what was his name? Lloyd something."

"George?"

"That's it," she grinned. "Lloyd George. You told me he used to drink you under the table, and I remember thinking – this man is bonkers."

"He did though!"

"I believe you now," she assured him. "At the time I still hadn't wrapped my head around the whole time travel thing, so despite seeing the inside of the TARDIS, I thought you were barmy."

"And now?"

"You sure you want me to answer that?"

He huffed a laugh. He let his head roll back against the headrest and looked at her. There was a hint of tiredness creeping into her expression and he realised that she was probably running on a deficit as everything had happened in quick succession for her – Skaro, the Game Station, and now this. He doubted she had slept for as long as she needed before coming to find him in the TARDIS and guilt pricked at him.

"I'm sorry I keep saying the wrong thing today," the Doctor apologised quietly, aware of the driver in front of them. "I'm not actively trying to upset you; it just seems to happen."

She sighed and leaned her head back as well. "It's not entirely your fault. I've been...I don't know. I feel strange."

"Strange?" He asked softly. "Are you not feeling well? Do you think the radiation –?"

"No, no, that's not it." She shook her head. "I don't know. I woke up this morning and I was happy. Happier than I've been in a really, really long time. I was surrounded by the people I love most in the world, but as the day went on I started to feel – god, I don't know. Angry, I think. Bitter."

The Doctor glanced to the driver who was doing an admirable job of politely ignoring them, and he reached for Zoe's hand. His thumb automatically smoothed over her wedding band, and her gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Bitter?" He asked her and, to his horror, he saw her face tighten and she raised a hand to her eyes as tears swelled there. He shifted to get closer to her but his seat belt jammed at the sudden movement. "Zo, what –?"

"I'm fine," she said, holding up her free hand. She didn't sound fine. She drew in a deep breath and looked at him, managing a smile. "I just – I'm feeling a bit _off_. I think it's the culmination of everything. The last four years, Skaro, us...the crowds today didn't help. I felt like I was being assaulted from all sides."

"We should have stayed at home," the Doctor said, mentally kicking himself. "They could have gone off without us."

"No," she replied. "I enjoyed it, for the most part. I loved spending time with everyone again, but I started thinking that I should have had this for the last four years. And I suppose I started feeling bitter and resentful, and then you said what you said and –"

"I was an idiot," he hurried to tell her, "and I didn't mean it."

"I know," Zoe said, squeezing his hand. "I do. But hearing it was like a – er – a trigger, I suppose. It opened a door to feelings I'd been more or less ignoring for my own sanity."

"And that's bitterness and resentment?"

She breathed in deeply. "Yeah."

"Zoe, I –" he couldn't finish his sentence as he didn't know what to say to her.

"I'll get over myself," she assured him. "I guess I just need time to get used to the fact that it's over; that I did what I needed to do. Part of me feels like I'm going to wake up and this has all been a dream, and I'm going to be alone again in the TARDIS."

"You won't be," the Doctor promised her gently. "Alone, that is. I won't leave you alone again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

He lifted her hand to his mouth, and she closed her eyes at the touch of his lips. "I won't leave you alone again."

"Doctor –"

"Zoe." Her eyes met his. "I promise."

Her face twisted with emotion and breathing became difficult. She swallowed hard and nodded, wishing that they were alone and that they weren't strapped into their seats. She settled for turning her hand over in his and threading their fingers together. All she wanted was the security of his arms, and the knowledge that she wasn't alone. She thought that if she felt even one-one hundredth of the loneliness that he had felt when she first met him, grieving and lost from the Time War, then she wished to cross her own time stream and tell her younger self to be kinder to him. He gently tucked some hair behind her ear and let his fingers linger against the side of her face, neither of them caring what they looked like to their silent driver.

"You know," Zoe said a minute later, her voice rough from the suppressed emotion. "I think that when all of this is over, exams and everything, I'd like to take a break. Maybe tick off another resort from Sarah-Jane's list."

"Just the two of us?"

She smiled. "As tempting as that is, I'd like for everyone to be there. I want to relax but also be surrounded by everyone."

"If you can persuade your mother to agree, I can take us wherever you want to go," the Doctor said. "We might have to stick to Earth-based resorts though. I can't imagine Jackie would be happy if I did actually end up taking her to Mars."

"There's a resort on Mars?"

"A really nice one apparently," he nodded. "Sarah-Jane enjoyed it at least. I ended up having a bit of an issue with some Ice Warriors."

"Oh?" She asked, interest chasing the bone-weary loneliness from her eyes. "Who are the Ice Warriors?"

"I haven't told you about them?" He asked, surprised, and she shook her head. "They're actual Martians. They inhabited Mars a millennia or so ago, maybe longer. They're not at all friendly to outsiders, and they..."

The tension that had crept between them from his thoughtless comment earlier that night and her own feelings that made her reaction sharper and more unforgiving melted from between them as she curled her body around to face him. It felt like they were the Doctor and Zoe again: sat up late at night whilst everyone else slept so that he could tell her stories of the wild and wonderful universe he had invited her along to see. He relished the moment and the quiet laughter that he drew from her, and he was disappointed when it came to an end as their driver turned the car up a narrow driveway to reach the Tower of London. Zoe's eyes softened when she realised that they had reached their destination and, as the driver stepped out of the car to open the door for them, she unstrapped herself and kissed the Doctor softly.

"Thank you," she murmured against his mouth.

"What for?"

"For being you," she replied, and he smiled at her; the lines around his eyes creased with fondness.

The Doctor stepped out of the car and held out his hand for Zoe. She took it and climbed out, not pulling away despite the fact there was a tall, handsome, dark-skinned man in the UNIT uniform waiting for them. He heard Zoe thank the driver politely, her fingers sliding against his, and he braced himself. He knew what was coming and wanted to stop it, but he found that UNIT officers needed to do it at least once to get it out of their system.

"Sir." The man saluted. The Doctor grimaced: _there it was_. "Welcome back to UNIT. Major Blake, head of UNIT operations here in London."

"Yes, yes, hello," the Doctor said with a touch of impatience that made Zoe squeeze his hand, a warning to behave. "You don't need to salute, you know? In fact, I'd prefer you if didn't."

"Of course, sir."

"And the Doctor's fine," he continued. "No need to call me, sir."

"If that's what you want, sir, of course," Blake replied, and the Doctor stared at him before he caught sight of a small trace of humour in the man's dark eyes.

He relaxed, reluctantly amused. "This is Zoe Tyler."

"Ma'am," Major Blake greeted, offering his hand. "A pleasure to meet you. You're something of a celebrity around here these days."

"Really?" She asked, interested. "What on earth for?"

"As the woman working to save the Doctor," he said. The Doctor passed his free hand across his mouth, amused. "The updates that Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart sent were always the topic of discussion for many days after."

"Oh, okay," Zoe said, taken aback. "That's a little...I'm just going to pretend I don't know about this because it's a little weird to think about."

The Doctor swung his hip gently into hers and grinned. "You're famous."

"If you'll both follow me?" Blake asked, stepping to one side so that they could walk up into the Tower of London.

There entered the building through the normal visitor's entrance with the gift shop on their right hand side. Never able to ignore a gift shop, Zoe had to tug on the Doctor's hand to stop him getting distracted amongst the overly-priced trinkets. He made a small sound of disappointed but fell back into step with her easy enough. The lights were off, as though it was closed for business, and their way was illuminated only by the light that drifted in through the large windows. They passed under a large stone archway and paused in front of what looked to be a plain wall that, with a swipe of a card, revealed itself to be a lift.

"Very 007," Zoe commented as they all piled into the lift. She looked to Blake. "Don't suppose you've got a Q knockin' about, do you?"

"I believe Dr Taylor would be the closest approximation of Q here, ma'am," Blake replied. "I can arrange for a meeting if you would like."

"No, no, I'm fine," she said a little too quickly, and the Doctor looked at her curiously. She tried to find the right words. "He's just...very energetic. Extremely intelligent – you'd like him – but kind of like Tigger on crack."

Blake couldn't help himself. Laughter slipped from his mouth without his permission, and it filled the lift until he was able to wrestle it under control. Embarrassment rolled through him at his lack of professionalism in front of the Doctor. He tugged his uniform jacket down, clearing his throat to stare straight ahead. From the corner of his eye, he knew that Zoe Tyler was grinning at him, obviously delighted she had made him laugh. The file they had on her said that she was a intelligent, sensible young woman. He felt that he needed to revisit her file and add a note that she was also potential trouble. He felt his mouth twitch with suppressed amusement and was pleased that the lift came to a slow stop and the doors opened into the main collaborative working space that was a hive of activity.

The Doctor rubbed his eyes with a grin, relieved to see that the officers and soldiers staffing UNIT remained pleasant. The doors to the lift opened, and Blake gestured for them to pass in front of him.

"This is a bit posh," the Doctor observed, looking around with obvious approval. He looked down at Zoe. "Not bad, eh?"

"Very impressive," she agreed.

There was a large flat-screen mounted on the ancient wall above their heads that showed the trajectory of the Sycorax ship approaching Earth, and his eyes swept over it. They were approaching Earth quicker than the Doctor would have liked and, if the readings were accurate, they would be in orbit of the planet just a little after dawn in a few hours. He glanced around the room to see if there was anything else on display and he became aware of the silence that had fallen. Eyes peered out at him with wide curiosity; people in the back of the room stood on tiptoes to try and get a better look at him. Zoe shifted, moving just a little closer to the Doctor, as though she could protect him from curious eyes with her body. He didn't seem bothered by the attention, though Major Blake's face deepened into a frown.

"What do you think you're doing?" Blake asked sharply, his voice ringing out through the cavernous room that echoed despite how crowded it was. "Everyone get back to work. This is not the time for sight-seeing."

Reluctant to do as he ordered but also reluctant to disobey a direct order from their superior officer, the staff members slowly resumed their activities but quieter and less focused than before. As the Doctor and Zoe were escorted across the floor towards a set of stairs that led up to a set of private rooms, eyes followed them as they passed. Zoe was certain that at least one person attempted to reach out to touch the Doctor. She couldn't help but think that if they knew what he was like in the mornings after a long night of fixing the TARDIS then they would be less enraptured by the sight of him. There was an uncomfortable undertone of a messiah entering the room that she could see sat ill on the Doctor's shoulders. She rubbed her thumb over his, and he relaxed slightly, glancing down at her to smile softly.

"Bit different from the last time we were here," Zoe whispered to him, and he grinned.

"We haven't interrupted a royal wedding this time," he replied, enjoying the memory of Prince Arthur and Catherine of Aragon's faces in his mind – _los diablos_ Catherine had whispered at the sight of them before the guards charged.. "But the night's still young."

"As long as no one tries to torture us this time, I suppose," she replied, and they were quietly sharing their mirth when they were let into a private room where a familiar face was waiting for them.

"Doctor! Zoe!" Harriet Jones greeted, her face breaking out into a wide and honest smile. She strode forward and the Doctor met her halfway, his enthusiasm lifting her from her feet in a hug that she returned just as eagerly. "Oh my, it is so wonderful to see you both again."

"Congratulations on your victory," the Doctor grinned, setting her on her feet again. "I said you'd make a good prime minister. Didn't I say that, Zo?"

"I think you did," Zoe agreed, moving forward. "Hello, Harriet."

"Oh, Zoe, my precious girl!" Harriet grabbed her in a hug that Zoe happily returned. Her warm hands cupped Zoe's face and a flicker of confusion passed across her features. "You look –"

"It's a long story," she interrupted, not surprised that Harriet could see the difference in her. She was more observant than most. "One I'd be happy to tell you when we have the time. But it's really good to see you again."

"It is," the Doctor agreed happily, taking Zoe's hand again. "And thanks for you help back in Cardiff. You saved us from a tricky spot there."

"I was happy to help," Harriet said, honestly. "It was bit concerning that she was able to set herself up as Mayor. Unfortunately the only thing to blame there was a lack of communication between London and Cardiff. I ordered an investigation to make sure that something similar never happens again. But what happened to her? After the Plass was destroyed, I had people looking. I assume you have something to do with her disappearance."

"We took her home," the Doctor explained. "Back to her planet. She won't be causing any more problems for planet Earth."

"That is a relief," she said before her eyes glanced over Zoe's shoulder as though expecting more people. "Is it just the two of you? Our reports have you as travelling with a few other people."

"They're back in the TARDIS," he answered. "Thought it might be handy to have a back-up option just in case we need it."

"Very well," she nodded briskly, gesturing at a young man who was waiting quietly in the back of the room. "This is Alex, my right hand man. Alex, this is the Doctor and Zoe Tyler."

"Hello, Alex," the Doctor greeted with a nod. "Enjoying working for the PM?"

"Very much so, sir," Alex replied honestly. "It's a bit different from my old job."

"I poached Alex from the BBC," Harriet explained. "He was working there as a junior researcher, and I met him when I went in to do my first interview. His competence impressed me and here we are."

"Congratulations," the Doctor said to Alex, who smiled. "But as much as I'd love a catchup, Harriet, please tell me there are no plans to do something stupid like launch a series of nuclear weapons at that ship, because I can tell you now that won't work."

"Of course there aren't," she replied, and he nodded, pleased. "At the moment we plan to attempt a diplomatic approach. They haven't yet made contact with us, though we've been trying to reach them. Any and all information you have on who these aliens are would be most appreciated, Doctor."

"They're called the Sycorax," he said, and Alex started taking notes on his phone. "They're a species whose entire society is built around invading planets, so I wouldn't hold out hope for a peaceful solution to this."

"Never say never, Doctor," Harriet replied, stepping away from them so that she could stride to the window and look out on the scientists below. "I don't want to see planet Earth dragged into a war simply because a passing species views us as an easy target. Is there something that we could give them to ensure that they leave us alone?"

He shook his head. "Not the the Sycorax. They take what they want. Negotiation and compromise aren't something they have a concept of."

"Well, that is troubling," she said, certain that her decision to have Torchwood prepare for the worst-case scenario was now the right one. She turned back to look at him and gave a bracing smile. "Still, I'm sure we'll think of something. There are people all over the world working on various possible outcomes as we speak, though until we speak to the Sycorax themselves, I'm afraid we're somewhat in the dark."

"Not to worry, Prime Minister," an aged, familiar voice said from behind them. "The Doctor was born in the dark and so is perfectly at home there."

The Doctor whipped around and let out a bark of laughter. Standing in the doorway of the private room, looking alert and active despite his old age and the time of night, was Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart.

"That's rich coming from you," the Doctor said, letting go of Zoe's hand. "Or do I have to remind you of all the times I saved your life because you couldn't see past your nose?"

"I'd hate to have to embarrass you in front of your friend by then telling you of all the times I've saved yours because of your stubborn pigheadedness," Alistair said, and the two of them met halfway to embrace each other tightly. Zoe glanced across to Harriet, and they shared an amused smile. Alistair released the Doctor and looked him up and down. "I see you managed to survive yet again."

"That was thanks to Zoe," the Doctor said, looking back at her. "It was a close call though."

"So I've heard," he nodded, smiling as though he was truly pleased to see her. "Zoe, it's so lovely to see you again."

"Hello, Alistair," she smiled. She hadn't seen him in person since the morning Downing Street exploded, and he gave her and the Doctor a lift back to the Powell Estate. She moved forwards to kiss his cheek, his white beard soft against her lips. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."

"I told you he's incapable of retirement," the Doctor said pointedly. "Give the man an alien invasion, and he can't help himself."

"I've never heard a more hypocritical statement leave your mouth in my life," Zoe said. "At least Alistair doesn't go looking for trouble."

"Trouble comes looking for me!"

"Not one of us believes that, Doctor," Harriet said lightly, and the Doctor's mouth fell open.

"Et tu, Prime Minister?"

Harriet easily ignored him and shook Alistair's hand firmly. "Good to see you again, Brigadier. Thank you for coming."

"Of course, Prime Minister," he nodded, resting his weight on his walking stick. "Although, if there's any chance we could wrap this up before lunchtime tomorrow, I would appreciate it. Doris is expecting me back for Christmas lunch."

The Doctor opened his mouth to say something insulting about domestics when Zoe caught his eye. The look on her face made him snap his mouth shut again. Other people began to slowly fill the room. A few high-ranking UNIT officers who eyed the Doctor from a safe, respectable distance; a Welsh scientist who looked out of his depth and who Major Blake introduced as David Llewellyn; and an efficient blonde woman named Sally Jacobs who remained silent as she worked at a laptop that she brought into the room with her. The room filled with the noise of multiple conversations, and Zoe stepped away from the Doctor's side to seek out the coffee that she could smell in the corner. She poured herself a cup and cradled it close her chest after taking a sip of the bitter liquid.

She watched the Doctor gesture vigorously, his body supporting the point he was making. She breathed in deeply, enjoying the fact that she didn't have to be the person in the room with all the answers. She liked not having everyone's eyes on her and their expectations weighing her down, suffocating her. The Doctor flourished under such conditions, his brain working quicker and more effectively than a human's ever could, and it filled him with energy. It never did that for Zoe. The pressure and the demands only made her feel sick and miserable. The feeling that she would get it wrong would tighten and tighten in her chest until pains shot out down her arms and around her heart, crippling her with agony until she was able to get herself into the Time Vortex where time meant nothing and she could breathe again.

She wondered if she would ever grow accustomed to such pressure, but she doubted it was something she would have to worry about whilst the Doctor was there.

Then again, the dark, pessimistic part of her mind nudged her, she had spent more time away from the Doctor than she had with him. Over the twelve years of her knowing him, only two had been actually been spent in his company. She knew better than most that she couldn't rely on having him always there with her, no matter what promises his romantic heart made him speak to her. It wasn't that she doubted his sincerity; it was more that she doubted the universe's kindness in keeping them together.

"Zoe," the Doctor called to her, exasperation in his tone. "Please explain to these people why using weapons against the Sycorax is a bad idea. They're not listening to me."

"We are listening, Doctor," Major Blake said patiently, "but we simply don't agree."

"Zoe."

"He's right, it is a bad idea," Zoe said, moving forward into the conversation. The room quietened at her approach, and she slipped into the space between the Doctor and Mr Llewellyn. "Nuclear weapons are powerful for Earth, but most spaceships are constructed to be powered by nuclear reactors. That means that material used is going to be impervious to the weapons we have. We'll have wasted our weapons and, since we need to wait until the ship enters our orbit, also poisoned our atmosphere. I don't know about everyone else, but I rather enjoy breathing clean air."

The Doctor gestured at her pointedly, his entire demeanour the word _see?_

"You could simply have said that," Major Blake pointed out.

"I did!"

"In about a thousand more words than actually needed," Alistair replied. "A word of advice, major? When dealing with the Doctor, always look to those he travels with for straight answers. They're generally much more sensible than he is."

"I am right here!" He protested.

"Noted, sir, thank you," Blake said, ignoring the Doctor, and Zoe hid her smile behind her coffee cup.

"You know, major, you're a little bit cheeky," the Doctor said, and she did laugh that time.

"If you say so, sir."

"I really like UNIT," Zoe said happily. "We should visit more often."

"You'd be more than welcome, ma'am," Blake informed her, and the Doctor frowned, dropping an arm around Zoe's shoulders.

"Yeah, no, stop trying to steal my friend," the Doctor said, and she leaned into him, amused by him. "She's mine."

"Possessive much?" She asked, poking him in the stomach. "But back to the matter at hand, there are number of other ways that we can gain an advantage over the Sycorax without having to resort to weaponry."

"I'm all ears, ma'am."

"My first thought is that we can simply hack into their operating systems," Zoe said, all eyes on her and the Doctor's arm warm and comforting around her shoulders. "I could do it from the TARDIS but if time's of the essence then I can boost the range with the national grid and go in via the satellites in orbit."

"That might work," the Doctor agreed thoughtfully. "Though there are about seven or eight protective firewalls to break through. If we decided to do that, Jack would have to help from the TARDIS and, for all his skills, he's not the fastest hacker around."

"Plus, using the TARDIS is something we should avoid doing," she reminded him, and he nodded.

"An option then," Harriet decided. "One that is far preferable to our first planetary encounter with aliens ending in attempted murder. Sally, have we had any luck making contact with the Sycorax?"

"No, ma'am," Sally Jacobs replied, glancing up from her laptop. "It's impossible to verify if they're even receiving our signals."

"Do you mind if I –?" The Doctor gestured at the computer and Harriet nodded her approval. He circled around to stand behind Sally, leaning over her. "Excuse me, Sally, is it?"

"It is," she said, a little breathlessly, her cheeks turning pink.

"This is a nice programme," he said appreciatively. "How many frequencies does it run through?"

"A thousand a minute, sir," Sally replied, mouth dry at how close he was to her.

"Very clever," the Doctor said, fingers moving across the keyboard. "Who came up with it?"

"That would be Dr Taylor, sir," Blake informed him. "Apparently it came to him in the bath one night."

"Well, playing with a rubber duck helps me think too," he said distractedly, and Zoe looked away, struggling not to laugh at the unintentional innuendo that completely slipped him by. "The signals are going out. They're being received, the Sycorax are just ignoring them."

"How rude of them," Zoe commented, lifting her coffee to take a sip.

He glanced up. "Not entirely their fault, to be honest. Your language is too primitive for them."

Harriet's eyebrows rose on her forehead. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't!" Zoe said, holding up a hand before he could launch into what she was sure would be an offensive explanation. He blinked, and she looked over to Harriet. "If you let him, he'll roundly insult the human species without realising he's being an ass."

"I would not!"

"You cut yourself shaving once, and we all got treated to a lecture on the inferiority of human skin versus Time Lord skin," she reminded him. "Spoiler alert, we could have done without it."

He pulled a face at her just as the laptop beeped. He pulled back, surprised. "That wasn't me. What was that?"

"We're receiving a communication from the ship, sir," Sally said, knocking his hands to one side in order to pull the information up on the computer. "I'm sending it out to the main screen now."

Zoe stepped out of the door ahead of the Doctor and descended the stone steps. The UNIT officers were gathering in front of the flat-screen that crackled with life as Sally patched the message through to it. There was a harsh ripple of breath being sucked in as the Sycorax appeared on the screen before them. Having already seen them, and creatures much more terrifying to look at, Zoe remained relaxed where she stood. Her eyes swept the room, curious at how others looked when seeing aliens for the first time, and she wondered how she had looked through the Doctor's eyes when she had met the Slitheen. She felt him come to stand next to him, and she reached down to take his hand. His thumb brushed over the back of hers as the room fell silent and the Sycorax started speaking.

"Cattle," the Sycorax leader began to speak, "you belong to us. To the –"

"Translation software?" Harriet asked, and both Zoe and the Doctor shushed her automatically.

"Sycorax," the leader continued. "We own you. We now possess your land, your minerals, and your precious stones. You will surrender or they will die. Sycorax strong, Sycorax mighty, Sycorax forever."

The screen blinked out again.

"That was short and sweet," Zoe said, unimpressed. "Not even a hello."

"You understood that?" Harriet asked. "You could understand them?"

"Yes," the Doctor said, quickly translating the conversation for those who didn't have the TARDIS translating alien languages automatically in their minds. "I'm a little troubled by _they_ will die."

"Are you sure that's the correct pronoun?" Llewellyn asked him, and the Doctor stared at him in annoyance. "Ah, yes, my apologies. Of course you're sure."

Zoe's phone started ringing. She removed it and saw the name. "It's Jack."

The Doctor held out his hand and she gave him the phone. He moved away so that he could liaise with Jack in the TARDIS. Zoe stared up at the screen, thoughtful. _They will die_. It was an odd way to phrase a threat, and it meant they were missing something essential. There was a piece of information that hadn't been revealed to them yet, and the lack of knowledge troubled her. She didn't like being blindsided by unexpected reveals. Not like the Doctor. He enjoyed surprises, but Zoe was happy to live without them.

"Ma'am," Major Blake said and Zoe looked around only to discover he was addressing Harriet, "I'm getting demands from Washington. The President's insisting that he take control of the situation."

"You can tell the President," Harriet began without looking at him, and please use these exact words: he's not my boss, and he's certainly not turning this into a war."

Zoe turned back around, smiling. She felt someone approach her, and she looked around to find Alistair leaning on his cane next to her.

"How are you?" He asked her after enjoying a moment of silence next to her.

"Better now that everything's over," she said quietly, comfortable in his presence. "I'm looking forward to getting back to normal."

"As normal as life gets around the Doctor, I suppose," Alistair replied knowingly, and a soft smile drifted across her face. "I want you to know that whenever you decide to finish your travels with the Doctor, there will be a job waiting for you here should you want it."

Zoe looked at him, touched. "Alistair –"

"UNIT could use someone like you," he told her. "And I think Zoe Tyler, Chief Scientific Officer sounds rather nice, personally."

She dipped her head, embarrassed. "Not for a few years yet."

"Take your time," he said, stretching his hand out to touch her back warmly. "UNIT'S not going anywhere. Alien threats notwithstanding."

Zoe nodded, grateful for his kindness and friendship, and they stood together in companionable silence as the room buzzed with activity around them.

* * *

Alistair paused when he stepped out of the White Tower, hand tugging his scarf into place around his neck. He tended to get sick every year when winter rolled around – a side effect of getting old –, and he was recovering from his most recent bout. He didn't care to tempt fate further by leaving his neck exposed to the elements. He shifted his grip on his walking stick and nodded to the two officers who were dutifully standing guard outside of the building, their red berets at a perfect angle and their breath forming white mist in front of them. They snapped to attention and delivered a crisp, sharp salute. They looked young; far younger than Alistair could ever remember being. He stepped onto the smooth concrete and made his way slowly around the Tower, enjoying the temporary respite from the heat within.

There was very little work to do as they waited for a reply to their message that the Doctor helpfully translated for them. He had forgotten how much waiting was involved sometimes: waiting and paperwork. Both things he was happy to be finished with, enjoying his semi-quiet retirement with his eternally patient wife that he was never quite sure he deserved. Over the years he had given her plenty of excuses to walk away from him, and he still burned with shame at the memory of her face when he confessed that he had fathered another child in Sierra Leone. He thought for sure that would be the end of everything, but she stayed for reasons that he didn't fully understand. One day, if he felt brave enough, he would ask her why.

He turned the corner and paused at the sight of the Doctor and Zoe Tyler sitting on a bench that overlooked the River Thames.

The Doctor's head was bent towards her, listening to what she said with care. It was a sight he was accustomed to when the Doctor worked for UNIT once he befriended Liz, Jo, and Sarah-Jane in turn. Often Alistair would come upon them, personal space never seeming to become an issue, as they talked and argued about things that Alistair actively chose not to listen to in order to spare his own mental health. Yet, even from behind them, Alistair could see that things were different. The Doctor had an arm around Zoe's back, his hand curled loosely around her arm, his thumb moving minutely in soft strokes through her jumper. Her own body was turned into his, one knee resting atop his thigh, and her hands were moving between them as she explained something to him.

There was an intimacy between them that Alistair hadn't seen the Doctor share with anyone.

He had suspected that Zoe was in love with the Doctor. Her determination to save him from his own poor decisions was telling, though the Doctor was able to engender all sorts of foolish bravery from those he called friends. Seeing them together, both oblivious to the world around them, made his heart sink to his stomach. He was certain that no good could come of such feelings between them. The Doctor would have to leave her behind one day, breaking both of their hearts in the process, and he had hoped that his old friend would become more sensible as the years past but it seemed an improbable thing to hope for.

As though sensing his thoughts, the Doctor looked up. It was a strange face this time around, all ears and deep lines, and there were a number of jokes Alistair wanted to make at his expense but he swallowed them back.

"Alistair," the Doctor greeted, and Zoe looked around with a warm smile. Neither of them shifted to put distance between them, unembarrassed by being caught so close together. "Fancy pulling up a pew?"

"If I'm not disturbing," he said, directing his remark to Zoe whose eyes reflected the light from the lamps and made her look as though she had small pools of fire within.

"You're not," Zoe assured him. "I'm just leaving. I want to see if I can nab Harriet for a catch-up."

She stood from under the Doctor's arm, which took its time to fall from around her, and she brushed her fingers over the back of his neck as she left them with a smile and a warning to behave themselves. They both watched her walk her way back up the lawn, arms folding across her chest as though cold, before Alistair took her spot on the bench. The Doctor, he was pleased to note, did not put his arm around _his_ shoulders.

"Zoe's lovely," Alistair said as the night settled around them. He enjoyed London at night: quiet, calm, yet somehow still alive. "Very, very intelligent. Far too brave for her own good, of course. Something of a masochist as well, I believe."

The Doctor snorted at the assessment. "What makes you say that?"

"I know a little about her time away," he confessed. "She would call every now and then when she was back on Earth, and she always sounded positively exhausted and worn thin. She refused my suggestions to take some time for herself despite her obvious strain, and so one can only conclude that she must enjoy punishing herself."

"That's the only conclusion you can draw is it?" The Doctor scoffed, looking away from him, troubled by Alistair's words. "No wonder you remained a solider instead of becoming a scientist."

Alistair ignored the barb and stretched his left leg out in front of him, easing the twinging ache from the joint.

"The only other conclusion I can draw," he said conversationally, and his eyes slid slyly to his friend to catch his reaction, "is that she's in love with you."

The Doctor went very still and that, for Alistair, was telling.

He sighed. "What have you gone and done now?"

"What makes you think I've gone and done something?" The Doctor asked, ears turning red, looking offended.

"I know you," he replied. "You and Zoe...are you –?"

He didn't know how to phrase his sentence so he settled for raising his eyebrows pointedly; the Doctor looked straight ahead, his shoulders stiff beneath the heavy weight of leather that he favoured.

"Yeah."

Alistair hadn't expected him to admit to it. "She's – you know, I don't know how old she is any more."

The Doctor picked at some lint from his thigh. "Twenty-nine."

"She's twenty-nine," Alistair said slowly, rubbing a smooth pattern into the polished wood of his walking stick. "And you most definitely are not twenty-nine. Good lord, man, what on earth are you thinking?"

The Doctor finally looked at him. "I love her, Alistair. That's it. I fell in love."

Alistair's eyes flicked over his friend's face. It was as unfamiliar as a stranger's on the street but no matter what face the Doctor used, he was still his friend and there were still little tells that gave him insight into his thoughts. His expression softened at the truth that was etched into the rugged lines of his face, pressing in deep and settling there.

"You're going to get your hearts broken," he said gently, and the Doctor glanced away, a small nod his only admission that he knew the truth of that statement. "But if she makes you happy, and Lord knows you could do with someone sensible at your side to rein in your ridiculous flights of fancy –"

The Doctor spluttered. "My what?"

"Then who I am to judge?" Alistair finished, ignoring his interruption.

"Normally the first in line," the Doctor groused, making Alistair grin. "But she does. Make me happy that is. Very much so."

"Then I'm delighted for you," Alistair said honestly, though there was an undercurrent of worry that he tamped down. Both the Doctor and Zoe were adults. Their hearts were their own affair. "Though I feel I should tell you, as your friend, that Zoe is obviously far too good for you."

The Doctor laughed, rubbing his face. "I'm already well aware of that."

"Good," he nodded, letting the smile settle on his face. He looked at him properly and saw that he was healthier and less haunted than the last time they met. "You appear to me doing better than the last time we saw each other. You worried me then. There seemed to be a heaviness to you that you're missing now."

"I feel better," the Doctor admitted, looking at his hands. "Zoe, Rose, Jack...they've all helped me get back on my feet. I feel good. Hopeful again."

"I'm pleased to hear it."

"How's the family?" The Doctor asked, enjoying the easy conversation with one of his dearest friends. Very few people in the universe knew him as well as Alistair did, and it was comforting to be around him again. "Doris and the kids doing well?"

"Very well," Alistair replied happily. "I've become a grandfather again."

"Get on! You haven't, have you?" The Doctor exclaimed, thrilled. "Which one was it? Kate or Albert?"

"Albert," he said. "A boy named Michael. Handsome lad; or at least he will be once he stops resembling a sack of flour."

"How many does that make now?" The Doctor asked curiously. "Five? Six?"

"Eight."

The Doctor released a low whistle. "Eight. I'll be damned."

"And what about you?" Alistair asked. "How's your family doing? Any more great-grandchildren to celebrate?"

A sharp stab of pain sliced through the Doctor and it showed on his face. Alistair's breath caught in his throat at the sight of it, painfully aware he had just stepped on an exposed nerve but unable to understand the cause of it.

"I –" the Doctor began, his voice cracking. "They're gone, Alistair. My family. They're all dead. All of them."

He felt as though he had been punched. He blinked, unable to understand, and he stared at the Doctor. "What? What did you just say?"

"There was a war..." the Doctor began slowly, dragging the words out of his mouth and letting them fall like broken glass between them. "The Last Great Time War. My family died. My planet too. Gallifrey...it's gone. They're all gone. It's just me now."

Alistair stared at him, horrified, but the Doctor avoided his eyes by looking straight ahead, wrestling his emotions under control. There was nothing Alistair could say that would help the Doctor. Instead, they sat in a heavy silence that was bearable only because of the long years of friendship they carried between them. In the silence that bound them together, Alistair reached out and took the Doctor's hand, holding it and letting him know that, for a time, he wasn't alone.

* * *

Zoe left the bathroom drying her hands on the bottom of her jumper, and she stepped back quickly, her shoulders bumping into the swinging door, when someone hurried past her with a hurried apology. Everyone was working hard liaising with other UNIT bases around the world, making sure that their government liaisons in all countries with a UNIT base had accurate information to give worried world leaders. An uncomfortable feeling of _being in the way_ filled Zoe; she wasn't used to feeling as though she was underfoot. Normally she was right in the centre of the decision-making process, but it felt different to insert herself into affairs on 21st century Earth. She had no problem doing it in France or on any number of planets she had visited over the years, but there was something about being at home and surrounded by people from her time that made her hesitant.

She hooked her hands behind her back and stretched her arms, relishing the pull of her muscles and the slight crack of her back. She felt tired, like she did after a long night of studying, and she rolled her neck from side to side. The thought of a nap was tempting but there didn't seem to be anywhere to sleep in UNIT headquarters; she considered asking Major Blake, whom she quite liked with his dry humour and brisk efficiency, but she also didn't want to miss anything. Instead, she made her way across the open plan situation room to where she had spied a second coffee pot earlier.

If she couldn't have a nap then she was definitely having another cup of coffee.

As she poured herself a cup of the black liquid, she checked her messages on her phone. There was a brief update from Rose informing her that everything was quiet on the TARDIS: Jack and Mickey were playing video games in the console room, and Jackie, after having popped up to the flat to feed the Christmas cake one last time, was asleep in Rose's bedroom within the ship. It soothed Zoe to know that everyone was safe within the secure confines of the TARDIS where nothing could hurt them. She tapped out a quick message in return telling her sister that everything was quiet at UNIT, and they were just waiting for the Sycorax to make their move.

She sent the message and lifted the coffee to her lips. Her thumb hovered over the flashcards app that she had. She knew that she should study if she had the time, her exams were in her future and it wasn't as though she had anything else to do, but the thought of flipping through her flashcards made her feel miserable. Instead, she put her phone back into her pocket. She was content to sit and watch, maybe make conversation if the opportunity arose as she didn't know where Harriet had got to. Not that her absence was unsurprising. She was Prime Minister and there were any number of things that demanded her attention at any given time.

It was a shame though. Zoe really had hoped to have a catch-up with her and find out about her rise to power.

She grabbed the back of a swivel chair and pulled it over to the wall so that she remained out of the way and next to the coffee. She sipped her coffee slowly and, despite the caffeine hit, felt herself dropping off where she sat. Her late night with the Doctor hadn't helped her body recover from the four years of stress and strain she had put it under; not that she regretted a single moment of their night together. More than anything, she wished that they were back on the TARDIS in her room, the door locked behind them, and her body pressed against his. If only she had paid more attention to her generator then they could be spending time together right now.

 _Idiot_ she chastised herself half-heartedly, taking a burning gulp of her coffee to push the tiredness away.

Although, if she was honest with herself, the thought of sex made her feel exhausted. She needed to sleep before she could contemplate anything else, but she still wanted to be back on the TARDIS. Falling asleep in the Doctor's arms sounded perfect. She was sure that his familiar presence would help solve her problems of restless sleep and insomnia that had plagued her for years. She was lucky if she got four or five hours sleep at night in recent years, and she felt that she perpetually skated the edge of exhaustion.

Hopefully that was going to change now that she was getting back to her normal life.

She let her mind wander over the places that she was going to see, eager to discover parts of the universe that the Doctor was going to show them, when her ears caught the sound of Harriet's voice. She looked around for her friend, hoping to grab at least five minutes with her, and she twisted herself into a knot when she realised that Harriet was standing on the level above her talking to Alex.

"Torchwood says that they need more time," Alex said, his words spoken quietly with a seriousness that piqued Zoe's interest. She wasn't much for eavesdropping, but there was very little else for her to do. "It's going to take at least another hour, maybe two, to prepare the... _thing_."

"And when will the Sycorax be here?" Harriet asked.

"They'll be in Earth's orbit within the hour, ma'am."

"Tell Yvonne that it is essential to have the weapon prepared and ready by then," she said. The word _weapon_ hit Zoe's ears, and she straightened up sharply, wide awake and concerned. "If our attempts at diplomacy fail, as the Doctor believes they will, then I will not have this planet undefended and at the mercy of these invaders."

There was silence, a moment's hesitation, before Alex replied. "Yes, ma'am."

His light footsteps faded as he walked away from them to deliver Harriet's message. Zoe didn't move, her mind working. She didn't know what Torchwood was, but the fact that they had a weapon that Harriet wanted to use against _aliens_ troubled her deeply. One of the things Zoe liked most about UNIT was how they didn't use the appropriated alien technology as a means to create weapons or destructive technology; they used to to create things that benefited the world and the people who lived there. Solar panels, chemotherapy drugs, efficient fuel usage were all things that UNIT developed from broken bits of alien technology that found its way into their hands.

 _Science leads_ Alistair had said to her once when she called him, exhausted and weary and questioning the path she set herself on. _It's not always the easiest way, but it is the better way._

Before she knew what she was doing, she set her coffee cup down and stood, making her way up the nearby stairs to stand next to Harriet who watched her approach. Her eyes had found Zoe's form as soon as she left her seat, shadowed and hidden against the wall, and dread slipped through her as she wondered how much the young woman had heard. Zoe came to stand next to her, leaning against the railing, letting her fingers trail like weeds towards the ground.

"Did you ever think that you and I would be here?" Zoe asked, her eyes drifting over UNIT. "The day we met, I mean."

Harriet gave a small laugh. "Absolutely not. I was too busy worrying we were going to die horrible, horrible deaths."

Zoe grinned. "That was a hell of a day, wasn't it?"

"I sometimes wake up in a cold sweat at the thought of it," Harriet admitted, slowly relaxing next to Zoe, her hands resting lightly on the railing. The small of her back was hurting, and she tried to stretch it out. "It's difficult to get the image of the Slitheen out of my mind sometimes."

"I have that too," Zoe said before giving a small wave of her hand. "Not about the Slitheen, not any more at least, but about the other things I've seen."

Harriet glanced at her. "It hasn't been easy for you?"

"Not always," she said. "Not long after I started travelling with the Doctor, there was this planet that he took us to. It was so beautiful, Harriet, you wouldn't believe it. Jewels grew like flowers out of the ground and dripped from trees like leaves. It was like nothing I could have imagined. Although, I did ask for diamond tress, but I only asked because I thought the Doctor wouldn't be able to deliver...but something happened to me there, something awful, and for a long time after that, I couldn't sleep without waking up screaming. It's better now, but sometimes I still get flashes of it."

Harriet wanted to reach out and comfort her for a hurt long-since experienced, but she kept her hands to herself. "You seem different."

"I'm older," Zoe said, glancing up at her. "I was seventeen when we met; I'm twenty-nine now."

Harriet breathed in sharply, surprised. "How –?"

"A combination of bad luck and necessity," she shrugged. "I spent six years in pre-revolutionary France living in the court of Louis XIV; and then, of course, four years living in Massachusetts in the 32nd century."

Harriet stared at her, trying to make sense of her words. Her image of Zoe shifted slightly to accommodate the new information. Instead of the young teenager with a too-large denim jacket and quick-thinking that had saved their lives, she transformed into a young woman who had lived life and experienced its joys and suffering. Looking closely at her, she could see how those years sat on her. She was still young and still beautiful, but there was a quiet knowledge that was visible in her features that hadn't been there before. Comparing the memory of Zoe in her head to the woman that she had become in front of her was like looking at a sketch and comparing it with the finished product. Elements of who she had been were there, but there was more depth and colour to her now.

"You're definitely not the young woman I met ten months ago," Harriet said after a moment's consideration, and her face softened into a fond smile. "But you're still Zoe Tyler."

She smiled at her. "And you're still Harriet Jones."

"I hope so," she said, catching a faint sigh before it left her mouth. "It's been an adjustment to going from backbencher to Prime Minister. I hope I've been able to stay true to who I am."

"I suppose that depends on what Torchwood is," Zoe said. Harriet stiffened at her side, and their eyes met.

"Excuse me?"

"Torchwood," Zoe repeated, holding her gaze. "It's preparing a weapon for you."

Her mouth was dry. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"I gathered," she said with a hint of amusement that turned her mouth up. "Judging from the hush-hush way you were speaking to Alex, I'm going to assume that Torchwood, whatever it is, isn't common knowledge, even here at UNIT."

"It's classified."

She regretted the words immediately though there was no reason to. Zoe wasn't an elected official. She had no role in government, no say over the affairs of the British public despite that which she chose to exercise through voting, and Harriet didn't need to explain herself to her. Yet she felt the strangest urge to do so.

"I suppose it would have to be," Zoe considered. "I'm going to assume that it deals in alien technology if you think this weapon they have could take out a Sycorax ship."

"Zoe," Harriet said firmly, "this is none of your business."

"I'm a British citizen, aren't I?" She asked. "If I was working, I'd pay taxes, which I'm assuming is what's used to fund this mysterious organisation. Just tell me what it is, Harriet."

"It's an organisation founded to protect Britain and its interest," Harriet said simply. "Whilst UNIT operates on an international scale, Torchwood operates solely on a national level. That is it."

Zoe eyed her, aware that she was being told only some of the truth.

"I suppose I could just ask the Doctor," she said to see what Harriet's reaction would be. The Prime Minister stiffened imperceptibly, unnoticeable unless one was looking for a tell. "Then again, if they're building weapons for humanity, maybe he doesn't, and maybe that's a good thing."

She shifted and pushed herself so that she was standing up. She turned to face her friend. "But, Harriet, I was serious earlier. Human weapons, even those that have been augmented by alien tech, won't make a dent on the Sycorax. Their ships are like nothing we have on Earth and without first understanding more about what they're made out of, their defences and weaknesses, our technology will do nothing but piss them off."

"Thank you," Harriet said with a tone of voice that Zoe recognised as clipped and annoyed, "but I do know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Zoe asked softly, and Harriet turned to her, annoyance rippling across her face. She held up a placating hand. "You don't have to make this decision alone, Harriet. You've got the Brigadier who, when the Doctor isn't on Earth, is as good as the Doctor. You've got UNIT who have decades of experience in dealing with threats like this without resorting to means of violence. And today, you have the Doctor and me. Don't turn this into the war that you say you want to avoid."

"The Doctor is the most remarkable man I've ever met," Harriet said honestly, "and you are a wonderful, intelligent, and fiercely brave woman, but you're not always here, are you?"

Zoe frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"The Doctor travels through time and space," she continued, "and he's not always here to help us when we need it. It is essential that planet Earth can defend itself. Torchwood allows us to do that."

"But at what cost?" Zoe asked, irritation at Harriet's stubbornness flaring within her. "Because I remember a woman who voted against the Iraq War. I remember a woman who supported the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. What is the cost to humanity, and what is the cost to you individually, if this your choice?"

Harriet breathed deeply. "I will do what I must to protect this planet and its people."

"You're but one leader on a planet of many," Zoe reminded her. "What gives you the right to plunge the human race into the universe on a war footing?"

"I will not have planet Earth vulnerable to every species that thinks they can come here like the Sycorax and invade," Harriet said, her words turning hot between them. "We must be able to defend ourselves."

"I agree," Zoe said, palm coming down on the top of the railing. "Of course I do. This is my planet too. But there's a difference between being able to defend ourselves and recklessly jumping into a situation that we don't understand. We don't know whether the Sycorax will listen to us. There are simply too many variables to start making set-in-stone decisions."

"The Doctor –"

"Has been wrong before, and will most definitely be wrong again," she interrupted before catching herself. She forced herself to calm down and try another tract. "Listen, Harriet, I was married to a woman who was an incredible politician and diplomat –"

"You were married?" Harried asked, temporarily thrown out of their argument. "To a woman?"

"Everyone's always surprised by the woman part," Zoe said, quietly exasperated. "But yes, I was. And Reinette – her name was Reinette – taught me that sometimes the best course of action is to do nothing and wait and see what other alternatives present themselves. Sometimes we can be too close to the problem at hand and be blind to an obvious solution."

"That's not an option."

"It's always an option."

"Was it an option for you?" Harriet asked pointedly. "You could have done nothing and waited to see if the Doctor would save himself, but instead you did the exact opposite."

Zoe kept her face still, aware that Harriet made an excellent point and that she was something of a hypocrite for pushing the wait-and-see approach. She sighed heavily and turned back so that she could grip the railing, looking out over the room again. Their argument appeared to have gone unnoticed.

"I don't want to argue with you, Harriet, I really don't," Zoe said honestly, her tiredness pressing in on her. "I like you a lot, and I'm glad you're my Prime Minister _and_ my friend, but I am asking you to seriously consider what using a weapon against the Sycorax will mean. Not just in the here and now, but in the days to come. This is it. This is the moment that planet Earth will make its foray into the universe, and you need to decide whether we do that as good people or as murderers. When the time comes, please think carefully on it."

Her heart was pounding in her chest and emotion surged through her. Harriet reached out for her and cupped Zoe's face between her hands, forcing her to face her once more. Her hands were warm and dry against her skin, and she stared into Harriet's face. She looked as she had done when they first met, and Zoe was filled with the urge to disappear into her arms. Thumbs brushed out across her cheekbones, and Harriet looked upon her with tender fondness.

"You might be twelve years older," Harriet said, "but I still see that seventeen-year-old girl in you."

Zoe reached up and curled her fingers around Harriet's slim wrists, smiling between her hands.


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter Sixty-Four**

Mickey stared up at the lines of people that stood on the edge of the buildings with their toes just off the sides, teetering dangerously in the early morning wind. One strong gust and he was certain they would fall like skittles to their deaths. A sense of second-hand vertigo swept through him, his stomach swooping unpleasantly, and he felt the brush of Jack's arm against him. He looked at the man's face. Its usual good humour was gone, replaced instead by a look of calculating caution. His jaw was tense, and there was a slight pressure around his crease-free eyes. In the absence of the Doctor and Zoe, those that remained in the TARDIS looked to him for answers, but having never met the Sycorax, or even having heard of them before today, Jack was at a loss.

"You think they'll jump?" Mickey asked, looking back up at the people.

He knew these people. He'd spent his entire life living side by side with them. He recognised Priti Azadi from the second floor; he once helped her when her father, then in the early stages of dementia, had gone for a walk in his underwear and ended up down by the McDonald's before anyone thought to ask him if he was all right. There was also Leo Butz with his gut hanging over the band of his tight underwear; Mickey never really liked him, remembering what his Gran used to say about him when he was younger – ' _good gone bad'_. He knew all of these people, and it made him sick to see them in danger.

"No idea," Jack said, "this is definitely mind control of a sort, which means there's only so much it can command people to do."

Mickey frowned. "What d'you mean?"

"You can hypnotise someone to cluck like a chicken, but you can't make them take their own life," he said. "Self-preservation kicks in and overrides the hypnotic commands."

"That's good then."

"Although," he continued and Mickey's stomach sank, "who knows with the Sycorax. There are ways around that problem. At the Time Agency, we –" he cut himself off abruptly, a look of displeasure shooting across his face. "It's not important. What's important is that, for now, they're not going to jump."

Mickey wasn't sold. "You sure about that?"

"If the Sycorax wanted them dead, they wouldn't have stopped to admire the view," Jack pointed out. "They're being used as hostages to ensure Earth's good behaviour." He finally looked at Mickey and registered the expression on his friend's face. "Don't worry. The Doctor is really good in situations like this. There's not a chance in hell he's going to let two billion people jump to their deaths."

Mickey thought back to Downing Street. The Doctor hadn't been willing to sacrifice Zoe and Harriet's lives when it was the easiest and cleanest solution. He had searched desperately for another way until it became clear there wasn't one. The sick feeling in his stomach began to fade as trust for the Doctor seeped in. It wasn't the bone-deep trust that Zoe, Rose, and Jack held for him, but rather one born of circumstance and faint experience that had the potential to grow into more. He nodded, and Jack placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed, reassuring him.

Behind them, the door to the TARDIS opened and Jackie stuck her head out. Her mouth opened to speak before her eyes went wide as she took in the sight around her. She emerged the rest of the way and came to stand next to them, eyes wide.

"Oh my god," she breathed, horrified. "That's –"

"Awful," Mickey finished for her, and she nodded slowly.

"Come on," Jack said, glancing at his two friends. "Let's get back inside. We can monitor the situation better from there."

Mickey had to curl his fingers around Jackie's elbow and give her a little tug to get her moving. She followed him slowly, unable to tear her eyes off the sight of her friends and neighbours standing on the edge of roofs, and she stumbled a little in her distraction. Once she tore her eyes away and one long shiver rolled through her, she remembered why she left the TARDIS in the first place.

"Zoe's on the phone," she said. "Rose is speakin' to her."

Jack hurried back inside leaving Mickey to usher Jackie in and close the door behind them. He was tempted to lock it but resisted the urge, feeling foolish. Rose stood at the computer chewing on her thumbnail. He could see that she was making herself bleed, and he wanted to push her hand away from her mouth but hesitated, uncertain if he was allowed to do that any more. It was a nervous tick developed during her relationship with Jimmy Stone that he had helped her break. Seeing it again was unpleasant, and he turned from her to grab a cup of tea from the jump seat where multiple cups were balanced on a tray. He didn't know whose it was, but it didn't matter as it was hot and strong and he drank it down in one.

"Hold on, Zo," Rose said, interrupting her sister. "I'm goin' to put you on speaker."

She fumbled with her phone before passing it to Jack. His thumbs deftly moved across her keypad before plugging it into the TARDIS. When Zoe spoke, her voice filled the room.

" _Can everyone hear me?_ " She asked, and Jack replied in the affirmative. " _Good. We've figured out how the Sycorax are controlling the people. The Guinevere One space probe had a vial of A-positive blood onboard. It was apparently an idea that the former Prime Minister signed off on as a way to get people interested in the mission because there is absolutely no scientific benefit of sending blood and greetings to Mars when the mission is just to take pictures. I mean, seriously, what a waste of –"_

"Zoe," Jack interrupted, "focus."

" _Right, sorry, yeah_ ," she apologised. " _Anyway, the Doctor said that the Sycorax are using the blood as an anchor for this mind control thing that they're doing. He's not worried about them. Said that it's difficult to make a person kill themselves because of self-preservation_ – _"_

Mickey glanced at Jack who gave him a small smile in return.

" _The problem is that to cut the thread of control we need to physically remove the blood from their possession,_ " Zoe explained. " _And that's not something we can do from the ground. Although they've integrated it into their system, we can't hack it because they'll still have the vial and a means of controlling all those people._ "

"So what's the plan?" Jack asked, the muscles in his arm tightening when he folded them across his chest. "We need the TARDIS?"

" _Maybe,"_ she replied. " _It might be the old distract and snatch technique._ "

"I love distract and snatch!" He said, grinning happily at them. "I'm great as a distraction. Once, I pretended I was pregnant and went into labour in the middle of a sporting match so that my partner could snatch the item we were tracking."

"Why would you pretend you were pregnant?" Jackie asked. "You're a bloke."

"Blokes can get pregnant."

"No they can't."

"Well, not in this time they can't," Jack said, and Jackie gaped at him. Even Rose stared at him, a little taken aback. "I haven't actually been pregnant."

" _As much as I want to hear more about all of that, and believe me I do, if we could focus again, please_?" Zoe said, her amused voice drawing them back to the task at hand. " _Harriet's about to give a speech to the nation, but Jack...be ready with the TARDIS. We're going to attempt diplomacy, but I'm worried that there's something else at play here._ "

Jack's attention focused like lasers. "Like what?"

" _I don't know_ ," she replied with a small, heavy sigh, " _and I don't think it's relevant to the situation now. But Harriet said something...I just want to make sure that we have every possible situation covered so that no one feels the need to blow anything up._ "

"We'll be ready here," Jack promised her. "Good luck with the diplomacy."

" _I've got this horrible feeling someone's going to put their foot right in it,_ " she admitted. _"Speak soon, guys. Stay safe._ "

"You too," he said, and she hung up.

Across the city, underneath the Tower of London, Zoe slid her phone back into her pocket and moved out of the quiet nook she had commandeered for her conversation. There was a crowd of people around Harriet, fussing with her hair and make-up, Alex helping her with her hastily crafted speech. Zoe saw only flashes of her when people moved. She sat behind a desk, two British flags on either side of her, and she looked like a leader. It wasn't a job Zoe envied her, but despite their conversation regarding Torchwood's weapons, she felt that Harriet was a safe pair of hands. She smiled at Alistair who was on the phone talking in fluent, seamless Russian that she only recognised because she had taken a course in Russian at university before dropping it as her workload was too heavy; she had asked the TARDIS not to translate the language during that time and forget to rescind her request. She approached the Doctor and reached for him.

"Spoke to the others," Zoe told him, resting her hand on the small of his back. "Jack's going to be ready to go if we need him. He seems almost excited at the prospect of a little daylight robbery."

"It's technically reclaiming stolen goods," the Doctor said. "Are they okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "They're all in the TARDIS."

"Good," he said. "Are you okay?"

"Me?" She asked, surprised. "Course I am. This isn't my first alien invasion."

"No, I know," he laughed. "I meant that you seem a little preoccupied by something."

"Oh, that," Zoe said, glancing back over her shoulder to where the crowd was dispersing around Harriet and the lightening started to adjust. "I had a difficult conversation with Harriet about something. It got me worried."

"About what?"

"It was kind of a philosophical debate mixed with pointed comments; it definitely bordered on an argument though," she told him, concern creeping into his eyes that she brushed away with a smile. "Don't worry about it. I think we were just a little surprised that neither one of us stayed the same people we were in the Cabinet Room."

He hummed his understanding. "People change."

"We do," she agreed. "So, who's Alistair talking to?"

The Doctor's eyes flicked over to his friend. "Vladimir Putin."

"Get on, seriously?"

"Seriously," he replied. "They worked together very, very briefly him during the 80s when Putin was a member of the KGB. Something to do with a Russian submarine that reported a strange creature submerged in ice. He thought I had something to do with with."

"Did you?"

"No!"

"Don't act all aggrieved," she said with a laugh. "You and I both know that sounds like something right up your alley."

"Well, maybe," the Doctor said reluctantly, grinning when her smile stretched across her face. "Anyway, he's just trying to keep Putin from launching his own nuclear weapons. Alistair, despite appearances, is highly-respected on the world stage."

She shook her head. "' _Despite appearances_ '...he's your best friend. Be nice."

"I'm always nice."

Zoe scoffed at that. He didn't have an opportunity to reply as the director – a woman who worked in the communications department and had once made a short film about street cats – called for quiet. Alistair quickly wrapped up his conversation with Putin and came to stand next to them. All around them, people gathered behind the cameras to watch Harriet's speech in person. The lights were bright and hot, but Harriet appeared unperturbed by the environment. She sat with her back straight and shoulders rolled back, her chin lifted and her eyes staring straight into the camera. Her notes were in front of her but, once she started speaking, she didn't refer to them once.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning." Harriet said at the director's signal. "If I may take a moment of your time during this terrible crisis. I'm afraid it's not the Queen's speech you're hearing right now, but it's the best I can offer at this troubling time. This crisis is unique, something we have never faced before in the history of our nation or, indeed, of our world. I ask that you please remain calm. We are doing everything in our power to seek a peaceful resolution to this uncertain situation.

"This is a dark time for our world. We face a threat that we know nothing about except that they are willing to kill one-third of us to achieve their means that we know not of. The last time such a threat darkened our existence, the courage of a few brave nations banded together, built on the backs of the indomitable courage of brave men and women everywhere, and chased that darkness away and allowed us to emerge from the fog of two world wars united in a way that we had never been before.

"We stand on the precipice of such a moment again. On this difficult day, it is perhaps best to ask ourselves not who we are as individuals nor who we are as nations, but rather who we are as humans. These aliens haven't come simply to attack one nation. They have come to attack one planet, one world, one species. It is easy when afraid and threatened to lash out with violence to prove that we are the stronger species. Yet we must ask ourselves what direction we should move in as the universe comes to our doorstep. We can be filled with hatred and fear for that which is unknown – certainly, we have the provocation – or we can make an effort to seek peace and understanding with that which is unfamiliar to us.

"We can do well on this world. Individually, we have had difficult times: in the past, and almost certainly in the future. This is not the end of individualism, but this is an opportunity for unity the likes of which could never have been imagined before this terrible day.

"I mean to speak with the aliens, whom are called the Sycorax, and I intend to follow every avenue of diplomacy that is available to me in order to resolve this situation. If I should fail, then I will have failed upholding the values that we, as humans, hold dear. The Sycorax will not mistake our compassion for weakness though, for it is a strength the likes of which they may never understand.

"Thank you for your time, and Merry Christmas."

The camera clicked off.

There was a moment's silence as the camera was checked to make sure it was no longer recording, and the director nodded. At this signal, the room burst into applause and Harriet relaxed, her shoulders slumping minutely as the pressure was temporarily lifted from her. Next to Zoe, the Doctor brought his hands together, joining the chorus of approval.

"That was an excellent speech," he said, impressed. "Guess she's still Harriet Jones."

Zoe simply nodded, her mouth dry. She hadn't expected her earlier words to Harriet to have such an impact, but the proof was in the speech. She stared at Harriet as she smiled up at Alex and laughed at something he said. Like the Doctor said, she was still Harriet Jones. She wasn't some stranger that Zoe didn't know. The two of them had been through something that bound them together. They had seen each other when they thought they were going to die, which Zoe felt tended to reveal true personalities, and, at her core, Harriet was a good, _kind_ person. From across the room and through the crowd of people, Harriet met her eyes and gave her a small smile of acknowledge that she returned.

There was no time to relish the moment as the building shook dramatically, and the outside windows exploded. She stumbled and caught hold of Alistair, grabbing the back of his jacket to help keep him upright as she quickly regained her footing.

"Shit, that was violent," she said, surprise making her breathless. "Were we attacked?"

"Sonic wave!" Llewellyn exclaimed, bending over a computer. "It's the spaceship. It's hit the atmosphere!"

"Only a matter of time," the Doctor said calmly as they turned their attention to the screen where they could see the huge, hulking mass of the spaceship enter their planet's atmosphere.

"My god," Alistair breathed, "it looks like a meteor."

"It's supposed to," the Doctor said, "good subterfuge. Most species won't be on invasion alert if a massive meteor enters the solar system."

A huge rock like ship moved through the atmosphere in a slow and steady descent. The building shook dangerously, and Zoe momentarily worried that the stonework wouldn't hold up against the force of the the ship's descent but the building remained reassuringly solid beneath her feet. Glass shattered all around them, and the noise was overwhelming despite them being inside. She lifted her hands to cover her ears even as she looked up at the screen to examine the ship closer. It was an ugly ship in an odd shape that wasn't as sleek as other spaceships she'd seen. It cast a large, dark shadow over the city of London as it slowed its descent so that it didn't crush the buildings and people beneath it.

"As far as designs go, it's not very aesthetically pleasing," Zoe commented to Alistair, lifting her voice to be heard over the noise. "Not very Trek, is it?"

"Prime Minister," Blake called over his shoulder, "they're transmitting again."

Harriet straightened her jacket and smoothed stray hairs back from her face. "Let's see it."

The Sycorax leader, distinguishable by the marks on his bony, reptilian head, appeared on the screen, Alex, who was now in possession of a translation device, translated as he spoke.

"Will the leader of this world step forward," Alex said, which Zoe felt was a generously polite interpretation of what the Sycorax had actually said.

"I'm proud to represent this planet," Harriet said, taking one step forward and the Doctor shifted, just a little, so that he was ready to grab Harriet if necessary.

"Come aboard."

The screen blanked out, and Harriet looked bemused.

"Well, how am I supposed to do that?" She asked to the blank screen.

A pale light swept over Zoe, the Doctor, Harriet, Blake, Alex, Llewellyn, and Alistair. Zoe's skin tingled as the beam locked onto her DNA and biomass and began to covert it into energy.

"Oh, fun," the Doctor grinned. "A teleport."

They materialised in a huge cavernous room onboard the spaceship

It wasn't like any spaceship Zoe had seen before. Reinette's ship and that of the Alfasi looked like what she always imagined spaceships to look like with grey bulkheads, viewports, and technology dotted here and there. The Sycorax spaceship, at least the room they were in, simply looked like a hollowed out meteor. Dust clung to her shoes the moment she appeared, and there were flaming torches in iron-wrought holders that flickered with the breeze that came in from the open doors that led out onto a platform. The design made her head spin. She didn't understand how the Sycorax kept the vacuum of space out when they weren't within the safe confines of a planetary atmosphere. The room they were in could be a meeting room that was used for such occasions, something designed to strike fear into the heart of the invaded and conquered. She wanted to explore further and peel away the secrets of the ship, but she stayed where she was, cautious as there were lines of Sycorax staring down at them from the enclaves built into the walls that towered high above them. At an estimate, she put their numbers near a thousand, maybe more.

"This is...pleasant," Zoe said dryly, attempt to shake the space dust off her shoes. "Can't say I like their interior decorating all that much."

Alistair snorted. "It does leave something to be desired, doesn't it?"

The Doctor spared them an amused look. Their easy banter was far preferable to the panicked hyperventilation of Alex who sounded as though he was one step away from passing out. Harriet had her hand on his back and her other wrapped around his forearm, whispering reassuringly into his ear even as her eyes moved around the room: cataloguing, assessing, _thinking_. Major Blake moved only so that he stood closer to his prime minister, ready to throw himself in front of her at any moment, which the Doctor hoped wouldn't be necessary. It was Llewellyn who slipped past his attention, forgettable with his quietness.

"It's a helmet," he said breathlessly as the leader approached them, cloak sweeping against the ground. "They might be like us."

The Sycorax leader removed his polished-bone helm and revealed its flat, bony face with sore-red skin beneath. Alistair breathed out next to her at the sight. He was never quite prepared for the sheer _alienness_ of aliens despite everything he had seen over the years.

Llewellyn flinched and took a step back, curving in on himself in fear. "Or-or not."

"You will surrender," the leader said whilst Alex pulled from his from his fear and remembered that he had a job to do, quickly translating the foreign words, "or I will release the final curse and your people will jump."

"If I can speak?" Llewellyn said nervously, and he took a step forward but the Doctor's hand came down on his shoulder, stilling his movements.

"Nope."

"But I sent out the probe. I started it. I made contact with these people," he argued, brave if misguided. "This whole thing's my responsibility."

"It's really not," the Doctor said kindly. "This is actually a little bit my fault –"

"More mine," Zoe interrupted, raising her hand. "I forgot to turn something fairly important off, and I sort of accidentally broadcast an enticing signal to them by mistake. I feel pretty guilty about it. So, David, let's just keep you back here with me and Alistair, eh? Nice and safe now."

The Doctor ushered him to stand behind Zoe and Alistair, and Llewellyn was relieved. He hadn't actually had a plan beyond beseeching their good will, which he feared was in short supply.

"Enough of this," Harriet said with a hint of impatience at the Doctor and Zoe's back and forth. She stepped forwards – Blake's fingers skimmed the edge of her jacket in an attempt to pull her back –, and she met the sunken eyes of the Sycorax leader. "Harriet Jones, Prime Minister."

Her words ran through the Sycorax translation database, taking the sounds and turning them into the harsh, guttural sounds of Sycoraxic.

"Yes, we know who you are," the leader said, his lipless mouth drawing back over strong white teeth, spittle flying outwards. "Surrender or they will die."

"If I do surrender," Harriet said calmly, "how would that be any better?"

"Half is sold into slavery or one third dies," he said. "Your choice."

"What choice is that?" Harriet asked him. "Enslavement or death?"

"It is your only choice, you primitive –"

"Hey!" The Doctor exclaimed over the word that the TARDIS chose not to translate for Zoe as the Doctor had never bothered switching the parental controls off after Susan left the TARDIS. "That was rude."

The leader's attention flicked to the Doctor just as Zoe's phone started ringing. It echoed around the cavernous room, and she fumbled at her pocket for it.

"I'm so sorry," Zoe apologised to the room at large, flashing them all a contrite grin, hoping that it would distract the Sycorax from interest in her phone. "I didn't exactly have the opportunity to put it on silence what with the whole teleport thing. Let me just –"

"What is that?" The leader demanded, pointing the end of a whip at her as she checked the screen – _Rose._ She refused the call, and the ringing stopped. "Explain."

"Just my phone," she said with an easy smile as it started ringing again. _Jack_. Once again she refused the call. "Really, it's just my family trying to get in touch with me. They're all a little bit of the worrying sort, you see."

Her phone rang again, and she mashed her thumb against her screen, chasing Mickey's name from it.

"You know what," Zoe said, "let me turn this off."

Her phone was a piece of advanced technology from the 31st century. She had upgraded whilst she was there and tinkered with it on the TARDIS to increase its storage capacity and uses. If she ever lost the phone, it would be a problem as the technology possessed within it had the power to change the course of technological development on many, many worlds. It also charged directly from the TARDIS, which meant that there was residual energy from the single-most powerful piece of technology in the known universe and had a direct connection to it. She hadn't thought about the dangers that her phone might pose, and she barely resisted the idea to roundly criticise herself for her oversight.

Two mistakes in as many days was two too many for her. Her brain was clearly addled by tiredness and sex; she should have figured that sleeping with the Doctor would knock a few braincells loose.

"That is not technology from this world," the leader observed, eyes narrowed on the phone in her hand. It started ringing again - _Mum_. He whirled, cape flying. "Scan the planet!"

Her face twisted in annoyance. "Oh, fuck."

"They would have found out about the TARDIS anyway," the Doctor reassured her, and she finally answered her phone.

"You guys might want to brace yourselves," Zoe said, annoyed with herself. "I think you're about to come and join us."

The floor beneath her feet vibrated with the effort of teleporting the TARDIS onboard. The Doctor quietly groaned when it made its appearance: blue and wonderful. He reached over and took the phone from her hand, knuckles brushing against her cheek.

"You may as well come out," he said, ignoring Jackie's squawks of protest. "There's nothing you can do in there now."

There was a moment when nothing happened, and Zoe imagined her family preparing themselves before the door opened and Jack led the way. Rose had to pull Jackie forcefully from the TARDIS and a strange sound left her throat at the sight of all the Sycorax surrounding them. She tried to slip back inside but Mickey shut the door firmly behind them, ensuring that the Sycorax wouldn't be able to get inside.

"Hey," Jack said conversationally. "You two having a good night?"

"So-so, you?" The Doctor replied.

"Mickey showed me some video games," he said, bobbing his head as though nothing was amiss. "The simulations are a little simplistic but fun once I got into them."

"Good, good."

Jack winked a greeting at Zoe, and she grinned.

"I'm sorry," Harriet said, looking at Jack with curious interest. "Who is this?"

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack introduced himself, leaning across the Doctor to shake Harriet's hand, his usual charm spilling out of him. "A pleasure, ma'am."

"Stop it," the Doctor warned.

"I was just saying hello."

"I don't mind," Harriet assured him.

"If I might interrupt?" The leader asked, bristling over with annoyance at the casual attitude that was on display, unaccustomed to being ignored and not feared.

As though he had forgotten about him completely, the Doctor whirled around.

"Ah, yes, hello," he said. "Nice space ship you've got here. Don't you think, Zo? It's a nice space ship."

"It's okay," Zoe replied. "Could do with a good clean though."

"Don't mind her," the Doctor said, "nothing's ever clean enough. She likes to deep clean the kitchen at least once a month, and this is in a self-cleaning kitchen mind."

"It always misses the nooks and crannies!"

 _See_? the Doctor mouthed, pointing at her.

"But what I want to know is what are you lot even doing in this solar system?" He said. "There's nothing here but space dust and humans that, quite frankly, have exactly zero technology that you don't already have. So what's the hubbub, bub?"

Blake's eyes shuttered closed, accepting his fate. "He's going to kill us all."

"He's just warming up," Alistair promised knowingly.

"There may be no technology," the leader said, "but there is cattle. We will enslave half the population and –"

"Kill the rest?" The Doctor finished for him. "I mean...you could."

"Doctor!" Harriet exclaimed, horrified.

"No, I mean they really could," he said over his shoulder to the rest of them. "Look at them with their hulking great space ship and their angry faces. They could enslave and kill you if they wanted. Except they won't."

The Sycorax seemed to have only one expression: snarling anger, but Zoe could read the confusion on his face.

"We won't?"

"No, you won't," the Doctor said firmly, dropping all notes of levity from his voice. He finally stepped away from the group and moved into the centre of the room. Harriet moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Zoe, her hand finding hers. Behind them, Jack discreetly slipped into the shadows. The Doctor's voice echoed loudly when he spoke to the assembled horde. "Sycorax, you are in violation of Article IV of the Galactic Charter. This is a level five protected planet. Did you honestly think no one was watching?"

A clicking, hissing sound came from the leader. "You are not of this world."

"No, I'm not, but I'm very fond of it," he said, tugging his leather jacket straight. In the shadows, Jack moved silently, his back scraping against the walls of the ship as he placed his feet carefully in front of him. "And I am telling you, _nicely,_ to leave this world in peace."

"We are the Sycorax, we stride the darkness," the leader hissed and spat, its tongue darting out. "Next to us you are nothing. Who are you to demand anything of us?"

"I'm the Doctor."

Zoe's skin erupted into a thousand tiny goosebumps when he said that. Power, respect, and self-confidence were packed into that tiny phrase: three little words that were almost as thrilling as the ones they had exchanged two nights before. She doubted she would ever tire of seeing him in his element: strong and capable in front of a horde of aliens who meant to do harm. One man against the tide of anger that threatened to wipe the human race out of existence, cutting them off at the knees before they were able to start their journey into the universe. She loved him for a number of reasons, but she respected him for this one: his unwavering commitment for justice and fair play throughout the universe no matter the personal cost.

The room of Sycorax erupted into hissing and spitting: anger tainted with terror at his name.

"I see you've heard of me," the Doctor said evenly. Jack slipped up the side of the wall, scrambling along it, before dropping into a small cove and crawling forwards. "Then you will know that I mean it when I say if you do not leave now, I will make you."

"We are not afraid of the last of the Time Lords," leader hissed, lying. "You will do nothing that harms innocents, and we can slaughter one third of the primitive humans in the space of a heartbeat."

"Yeah, I suppose you could," he agreed, and Jack got into position. "That is if my rather clever friend over there wasn't about to press that big red button."

The leader turned sharply and Jack rose smoothly to his feet, a pleased grin spread across his face, before he brought his hand down onto the red button. Harriet lunged forwards, instinctive in her fear.

"No!"

"It's okay, Harriet," Zoe said, pulling her back. "Remember, self-preservation."

Harriet turned stiff with tension.

"Survival instinct," the Doctor reminded them all. "It's a powerful thing. Not even the Sycorax can override that."

"Blood control is just one form of conquest," the leader spat. "I can summon the armada and take this world by force."

"You can try," Harriet said, her words edged with threat. His dark eyes flicked to her and disdain dripped from him. "I feel that we've been most generous in our actions towards you so far, but that generosity won't last forever. Take the Doctor's mercy and leave. _That_ is your warning."

The leader tipped his head back and laughed. It was a harsh, grating sound. "The human speaks of things she knows nothing of. She will die."

He raised his whip and flicked it violently towards them. Jackie screamed out a warning as Zoe twisted herself around so that she was in front of Harriet, her back facing the whip, ready to take the blow. She braced herself for the pain that never came. She looked her shoulder and saw that the Doctor had hold of the electric whip, unbothered by the energy that would surely have killed Zoe, and he yanked it fiercely from the leader's hand.

"That was very a foolish thing to do," the Doctor said sharply, anger flaring like a bright fire within him at how close Zoe had come to death. It filled him and spread down to his fingers and toes, making him vibrate with it. His eyes moved over the Sycorax assembly, and an idea started to form in his mind. "I take it you subscribe to the traditional form of combat? Winner takes all?"

"Doctor –" Alistair called out warningly. "Don't."

"We do."

"Then –" he said, darting to one side to grab the pommel of a sword from the sheath on a guard's waist, certain that Zoe was going to yell at him until she was hoarse when she had the chance. He pulled it free; his muscles stiffened, and he wielded it before him. It was years since he'd used a sword, but he thought he remembered how it went. He pointed the tip of the sword at the Sycorax leader. "I challenge you to combat. Winner takes the Earth."

"What. An. Idiot," Mickey said, disbelief painted across his face. "This is a horrible idea."

"Most of his ideas are horrible," Rose admitted nervously, clinging to her mother's hand, "but they generally work out all right."

"I can hear you both," the Doctor rolled his eyes in their direction, and their mouths snapped shut. He raised his eyebrows at the leader. "What say you?"

"You stand as this world's champion?" The leader asked, and there was a small note of trepidation in his voice – fighting a human was one thing, but fighting a Time Lord with the Doctor's reputation was another.

"Always."

He risked a glance to Zoe who looked thin-lipped and unimpressed with his decision, but she nodded her head once: accepting and encouraging. He couldn't feel her mind – he may never feel her mind against his – but he knew her face better than he knew his own, and he could read her emotions as clearly on them as if he'd felt them himself. And the message on her face was loud and clear – if he got himself hurt, she was going to kill him.

"I shall enjoy ridding the universe of the Last of the Time Lords," the leader hissed and clicked, throwing off his long cloak that pooled on the floor behind him. He withdrew his own sword. "Your head will decorate my chambers."

"Why?" The Doctor asked, disgusted and confused. "That's just horrific."

"It will be my trophy."

"Then display it somewhere more obvious," he said with a shake of his head, "unless you want people trooping through your chambers on a regular basis. Keep it somewhere people can see it, somewhere nice and bright. Draw some attention to it. Don't just hide it away."

"Doctor," Zoe said with stiff irritation, "please stop telling him where to put your severed head."

"Ah, right, yes," he nodded, gripping his sword tightly and focusing again. "You accept my challenge then?"

The leader's tongue darted out. "For the planet?"

"For the planet," the Doctor agreed, and he lunged.

Zoe watched with her heart in her mouth as the Doctor surged forwards. Their swords clashed together with a loud, metallic crash that reverberated and made her teeth ache in her jaw. She couldn't remember if he'd ever been in a sword fight before, certain he hadn't whilst they had known each other. Yet it seemed like the sort of thing he would have been involved in. She knew he had once travelled for months with Marco Polo so perhaps there were hidden talents there, but she remained terrified. The idea of him losing was unimaginable, but she knew better than most that it was possible to do everything right and still lose. That was the way life worked sometimes, and despite the fact that he seemed invincible, she worried.

She stood with Harriet, Blake, and Llewellyn on the edge of the field of combat, dust kicked up and formed clouds around them, reminding her unpleasantly of Skaro. Her chest tightened in remembered fear, and she swallowed against her suddenly dry mouth. She tried not to let her anxiety show so openly, though everyone else was less successful. Rose kept shouting out warnings to _watch out_ , getting snarky rejoinders in return; and Jack grimaced where he stood, forehead pressed into a frown of concern; Mickey seemed as though he wanted to watch through his fingers, whilst Jackie actually did just that.

The Doctor taunted the Sycorax as he moved, light on his feet.

Zoe desperately wanted him to shut his mouth, but he was goading the leader outside for reasons she didn't understand. She pulled Harriet along with her as she refused to let him out of her sight. Jack, always one to keep his head in a crisis, unhooked from the ship's computer the vial of blood that had allowed the Sycorax control over one-third of the human population, and he held it tightly in his hand as he hurried outside. He caught the tail end of the group as they broke out into the fresh air that whipped around them, threatening to knock them off their feet and sending his carefully styled hair in every different direction. He stumbled against the force of the wind and grabbed hold of Mickey's shoulder, pulling himself forward whilst dropping the vial of blood into the pocket of Mickey's jacket.

The Doctor held his own remarkably well, much better than Zoe expected. He was a man of words and thought rather than an action hero, though he had his moments on occasion, and she was surprised at how skilled he was with a sword. Yet his obvious capabilities did nothing to tamp down the fear in her stomach. A sword was still a sword and the Doctor, for all his talk of superior biology, wasn't immune to being run through with one. Time slipped her by, leaving her unaware of its passage as she watched with her heart in her mouth, and the Doctor took a step back to brace himself against a strong downwards thrust that made his arms shake. His knee dipped in a graceful bend and the muscles in his thigh strained under the pressure.

Part of the ship gave way beneath him, crumbling under the press of his foot. He lost purchase as he was too close to the edge, and Zoe's stomach swooped when his foot pushed through the empty space beneath. His knee buckled and landed jarringly against the surface making him grunt in pain. He dropped one hand to balance himself, the sword dipping, as he tried to regain control.

The Sycorax seized his opening and sliced him across the chest. His jumper tore, and his blood shone bright and red in the morning sunlight. Rose screamed his name, and Harriet cried out in distress. No sound left Zoe as she was frozen with fear for him. She wanted to be at his side with a sword of her own, fighting alongside him. Her hand squeezed Harriet's tightly: tight enough to cause pain but her friend said nothing as she clutched her back just as hard. As though he didn't feel the pain of the strike, the Doctor pushed himself back onto his feet and brought the sword up to block the following blow, a triumphant grin on his face.

Jack saw it first. The tell-tale flash of metal under the sun, and he called out a warning but the words had barely left his mouth when the leader's hand shot out, a large serrated dagger clasped within, and he slammed the knife into the Doctor's chest.

The universe went silent as Zoe stared at the sight of a dagger sticking out of his chest before she screamed.

The Doctor choked and looked down at himself in surprise.

 _Oh_ he thought.

The pain was sharp yet not all that consuming, at least not yet. On the edge of the wind he heard Jack's anguished shout and the pure agony of Zoe's scream that hurt him more than the dagger lodged within him. His eyes found her across the expanse of open ground, and a warmth filled him. The wind whipped her hair around her face, and she was frozen next to Harriet in her too-big jumper that fell down over her hands. _She's beautiful_ he thought to himself, his last lucid thought before the knife was ripped from his chest. Pieces of his flesh and muscle were caught on the edges of his blade, and his blood spilled out over his jumper. The pain slammed into him then, and he couldn't breathe for it. His blood was a boiling waterfall that cascaded down his front, soaking into his jeans, and his fingers twitched, dropping his sword uselessly to the ground.

His eyes on Zoe, he fell forwards.

There was one still moment where Zoe's mind went completely blank as the Doctor hit the ground. Although she didn't hear the impact his body made against the surface of the meteor ship, she imagined it perfectly. She'd heard enough bodies thudding heavily to the ground to hear the sound his made as clearly as if she was standing right next to him. Her brain shorted out in a series of electrical sparks that fizzed around her, and she was suspended in a moment that stretched on for an infinity. There was no past or future, there was only the present that stretched taut before it snapped like an elastic band pulled too tightly. Jack let out a shout and he sprinted forwards, closing the distance between him and the Doctor with ease. He dropped to his knees beside his fallen friend and turned him onto his back. Jack's movement broke the spell, and Time flowed back into her body.

She immediately dropped Harriet's hand and ran forwards, stumbling over Jackie who was in her way. She skidded across the ground on her knees and stumbled to a halt at his side. The material of his jumper gaped open, and Jack gripped the edges to rip it open further. The tearing sound pierced through Zoe's cloud of panic but not as much as the sight of the Doctor's pale chest smeared with blood that pumped out of him at an quick rate, his two hearts helping to speed up the blood loss.

The wound itself was small but the edges around it were ragged and torn, pieces of flesh and muscle hung loose out of it – the sharp, serrated sides of the blade had done more damage than a normal knife. Jack stripped out of his shirt and pressed it against the wound. The Doctor grunted in pain at the pressure, and he blinked up at Jack's evenly-tanned skin before his eyes darted around his friends, settling on Zoe even as his vision swam with pain.

"Zoe, press down here," Jack ordered, panic making his voice sharp. She didn't move. He reached across and wrenched her hands to him, pressing them against the Doctor's chest. "Press down as hard as you can, okay? The harder the better, understand? _Zoe!_ "

"Yes, yes." Her words rushed back to her. "I've got it. I've got it."

"Good girl," he said, jumping back to his feet just as the others arrived.

Her tongue had turned to paste in her mouth and kept it clamped shut. She stared down at him, his blood warm against her fingers, and she shifted so that he could rest his head in her lap. Somewhere above her, Rose babbled nonsensically, tears dripping off her chin, and Jackie was pale-faced and crying. Zoe's mind, brilliant by human standards, was dull and unresponsive in the face of her fear and grief. It made her stupid and slow. She couldn't think of a way out of the situation; she couldn't think of a way to fix him.

"Ow," the Doctor said. His voice was tight with the pain, and his hand gripped Rose's a little tighter. She knelt at his side crying, clutching it to her chest. "That hurt."

"You'll be okay," Zoe said, wrenching her tongue free from the top of her mouth to lie with a brave smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her words were spoken on a tremor as she was scared out of her mind, but she was brave for him even as his blood soaked into her top. "We can – we can get you to a hospital. It'll be okay. This is nothing. You're fine."

"My heart..." he grunted, "the right one...it's been pierced..."

"You are so fucking stupid," she told him, unable to stop herself. Hot tears ran down her cheeks. "How could you let yourself get stabbed, huh? What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I'm dying..." the Doctor groaned, his eyes rolling in her direction. She felt a powerful shudder run through his body as his body temperature dropped dramatically to try and slow the bleeding. "Can you yell at me later?"

"There'd better be a later," she threatened, but the fear in her eyes took away any bite that existed in her words. "I'm not ready for you to go."

"Zoe..."

His eyes darted to the side, and she followed his gaze to see the Sycorax leader approaching them. His dagger gleamed in the morning sunlight with the Doctor's blood dripping slowly from it to the ground. The universe slowed to a crawl around her. She felt something powerful and strange pulse through her, an emotion she'd never felt so clearly before.

"I will have his head," the leader hissed and spat.

Anger.

It was anger.

It was pure and undiluted and it made her surroundings shift; everything seemed clearer and brighter. She could make out the harsh lines on the leader's face where his facial bones jutted out and the skin stretched tight to accommodate it. She saw the way he moved and how he favoured his left leg just a little. She watched his fingers flex around the pommel of his sword and the way his arm trembled minutely. He was tired, or not as strong as he thought he was, but he wanted to kill the Doctor and hang his head in his bedroom. The very thought of it made her head hurt as the band of anger tightened.

She shifted, the Doctor's head lolling on her lap, and she was about to take the closest set of hands she could find and press them against the Doctor's wound and _kill them all_ when Jack stepped in front of her.

His pale slacks were flecked with the Doctor's blood and the muscles in his back rippled as his blood-stained hands wrapped around the pommel of the Doctor's dropped sword. The sunlight fell across his strong form, and Zoe was struck by how beautiful and heroic he looked.

He looked like the hero he pretended he wasn't.

The leader laughed, derision clear. "You would take up his sword?"

"You violated the rules of sanctified combat," Jack said, icy with rage. "And you've hurt my friend. I'm going to kill you."

"Come then, primitive human," the leader laughed. He let his guard down. He didn't expect him to be as capable as the Doctor. "We will allow this for _entertainment's_ sake."

Jack ignored that and lunged forward with a smooth move that made the Sycorax jump back, bringing his sword up and around almost a moment too late. Anger and determination drove him forward, attacking in a flurry of cuts and jabs that consistently put the leader on the back foot, taking advantage of his strength and the surprise that the revelation of that strength gave him. Mickey called out when the Sycorax's sword sliced deep into Jack's hip, sending him spinning away, his own blood staining his trousers, but the pain was nothing to him.

He spun on his heel as though it was a dance, and he dropped to one knee. Jack cut the tendons of both heels, and the Sycorax roared with pain. His body arched back even as his legs buckled beneath him, sending him to the ground. Jack raised his sword, the sunlight catching it, and he brought it down with all the strength in him. It sliced through the would-be conqueror's wrist, and the severed hand dropped twitching to the ground; grey blood spurted out and soaked his shoes and the hem of his trousers.

Jack didn't hesitate.

He brought the sword down again and drove it through the his enemy's neck. There was an awful, wet gasping sound as the alien leader died kneeling. Jack's face tightened into a snarl. He twisted the sword, yanking it hard so that he severed the head fully from the body. The head dropped to the ground and rolled until it came to a stop by Blake's feet who merely nudged it with the toe of his perfectly polished shoe. The headless body twitched with lingering electrical impulses before it toppled forward, blood pumping from the gaping wound of its neck. Jack stared down at the it, his sword dripping blood at his side, and he looked back at them.

His eyes passed over the pale, scared faces of the group before they found Zoe's. He waited as though for her approval, and she gave it with a small nod of her head. His shoulders eased.

"Jack," Zoe said, calmer now that the threat was neutralised. "I need you to help carry the Doctor. Mickey, you too."

It took a few tricky minutes before Jack, Mickey, Blake, and Alex managed to get the Doctor to his feet. Alistair reached for Rose, supporting her as she stumbled after the Doctor weeping, and Harriet and Jackie held onto each other as they followed. Zoe led the way, soaking her shoes in the blood of the dead leader. In her ears, she heard the steady pounding of her heart. She walked to its beat and let it calm her as they re-entered the cavernous room with the rest of the Sycorax who were silent and watchful, having seen what occurred out on the platform.

"Get him into the TARDIS," Zoe said, and Jack nodded.

Harriet, Blake, and Alistair remained behind with her as she faced the Sycorax. Hatred for them rose through her and threatened to choke her. She hated them more than she thought possible. They had come to her planet to invade and conquer and kill for no other reason than because they could. She saw nothing of value in them, and she wanted to rip them out of existence so that they were never able to harm any other planets. Her anger was a tempting, addictive thing, but she swallowed it back.

"Your leader fought and lost despite his cowardly treachery!" Zoe called out to them, her TARDIS-translated words ringing around the room. "According to the ancient rites of combat, your business here is at an end. This planet belongs to humans and humans alone. You are forbidden to ever return here. Leave this place and never come back! But when you do go back out into the stars – and you tell others of this planet and you talk of the resources of this world – you tell them this as well. This planet is protected!"

With the rage and hatred that pounded through her, she felt as though she could take them all on if they decided to attack her. Instead of finding herself fighting a horde of Sycorax, the light of the transporter surrounded her and her world turned bright and shiny for a moment as it snatched them up and returned them to the courtyard of the Powell Estate where the TARDIS had been scooped up from. The light faded from her eyes. She wanted to run into the ship to be with the Doctor but there was one more thing she needed to be sure of before she allowed herself what her heart insistently demanded.

She stayed exactly where she was and stared up at the ship and waited.

Slowly, it began to leave the atmosphere. The hot exhaust blew over her as it rose back through the sky to leave the Earth in peace. She breathed out and started shaking. She turned on her heel, ignoring those around her, and she raced into the TARDIS. Alex did not appear to be coping at all well with the immensity of the TARDIS, and the others hadn't been able to get the Doctor far. He lay on the grating and bled onto the floor. Jack had been to the sickbay and back but there was nothing there that could staunch such a horrible wound.

"Hey, hey," Zoe said quickly, dropping to her knees and taking his face between her hands. "I'm here. Hi. I'm here."

"I don't feel so good," he admitted, feeling better with her in front of him. The smell of her filled his senses, and he felt safer knowing she was there. "I really...it hurts."

"I know," she soothed, thumbs moving under his eyes. "I know it does. It's going to be okay though, I promise. It's going to be okay."

"Zoe, we need to get him to a hospital," Jack said urgently, speaking across the Doctor's body. "This is really bad."

"Doctor," Alistair said, his voice a calm port amongst the tumultuous storm. He knelt with difficulty at his friend's side, hand on his knee. "Is it happening?"

The Doctor was grateful for him. "Yeah. Yeah, it is. Alistair...it's starting. I can't stop it. It's too late."

"Okay," he comforted. "You're going to be okay. This isn't the first time you've done this. Try and breathe through the pain. You will get to the other side."

"Zoe..." he got out. "Look after her."

"I can look after myself, you idiot," Zoe said, tears dripping down her face. She held his beautiful blue eyes and mourned him. "I'm not ready. I'm not ready for this. Please don't go. Doctor... _please._ "

"Ssh," he breathed, reaching up to touch her face, smearing blood across her cheek. "You know what's coming. You know what's about to happen. It's going to be okay."

"What's he talkin' about?" Rose demanded, face wet and eyes red. "What's comin'?"

Despite having explained regeneration before and having met a future version of himself with a different face, she didn't feel prepared for it. In all of the conversations she had shared with him over the years, she hadn't actually asked him how each regeneration happened. It wasn't something that she thought of asking. Besides, he'd been in his body for such a short time, and it should have lasted him centuries at a bare minimum. The Doctor she had met in 1941 wasn't a Doctor she expected to travel with as consistently as she was used to; she imagined that he popped in and out of her life for the occasional adventure and cups of tea mixed with gossip. She thought of the floppy-haired, bow-tie wearing Doctor and, for a moment, she hated him. She didn't want to see him yet. She wanted to keep her Doctor with her for just a little longer: this face and these hands – the body that she was just coming to know.

"He has a little trick up his sleeve," Alistair explained, and his calm was directly in contradiction to the heightened panic in the room. "His people have this evolutionary abnormality, I suppose –"

"Nothing abnormal about it," the Doctor grunted, sweating. "Perfectly normal."

Alistair ignored him and continued. "It's their way of cheating death. He's going to be okay, but he's going to be different. He's not going to look the same."

"What?" Rose asked, confused. "What do you mean?"

"He's still going to be the Doctor, but he's going to have a different face," he said. "It's called regeneration. Every cell in his body is dying, and they;re going to be reborn, remade. Same memories, same person, but different body."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Jackie cried, hugging herself.

"He's an alien, Mum! None of this makes sense!" Zoe snapped back, overwhelmed.

"Miss Tyler," Alistair said, addressing Rose. "I assure you, he's going to be okay. I've seen this happen before. It's unpleasant but necessary."

"I've heard of regeneration," Jack said with wide eyes as he took in the Doctor's skin that glowed as bright light moved beneath it, "but I thought it was just a myth."

"Nope," the Doctor said tightly. He couldn't breathe properly. His lungs were changing and it hurt. "Very, very real."

"Just everybody shut up a second!" Zoe said as she scrubbed her blood-stained hands over her face. "I can't think."

"Zoe -" the Doctor said.

"You too!" She snapped even as she turned to him, hands gentle on his body. "You're so stupid. Who gets stabbed in the fucking chest? You're _so_ stupid."

"Hey," he said gently, and he lifted his glowing hand to touch her cheek. "It's okay. It's time. This was a stupid old body anyway. Too much ear."

"I like this body," she whispered on a ragged breath and then, with the sudden realisation that she might be making everything harder for him, she smiled. "But it's okay. It doesn't matter. You're still you no matter what you look like. Even if you wear a bow-tie."

He looked horrified. "Please don't let me do that."

"Like I could stop you," she laughed wetly, and he touched the tears beneath her eyes.

"Don't cry," he told her. "I'm not worth your tears."

"I'll be the judge of that, thanks," she replied, and she memorised this face – his strong jaw, straight nose, close cropped hair, the lines in his forehead and around his clear blue eyes. She leaned in and rested her lips against his brow. She spoke so only he could hear her; her words too intimate to share with anyone else. "I love you. In this body, in your next, in all of them. I love you."

"Zoe," he breathed, "I –"

She stopped him before he said it. He was the same man no matter what his face, and she didn't want to hear anything that sounded like a goodbye from his lips. "Tell me when you're done."

Relief flickered through his eyes, and he smiled.

Alistair's hands were strong and comforting on her as he drew her back from the Doctor's glowing form. "Good luck, my friend."

"I'm glad you're here," the Doctor grimaced, trying to sit up.

He watched as Alistair gently pulled Zoe back to a safe distance, and he looked at the people that he loved. Jackie stared at him, fearful for him but no longer of him; Mickey held onto Rose, his other arm wrapped around Jackie, anxious but brave, so different from the man he had first met two years ago. Harriet Jones, Prime Minister, confused, scared, and nervous but filled with an enduring spirit that would help guide Britain into its Golden Age. The timelines around her were hazy, still coalescing as there were two paths before her that she needed to choose from: one that led to the Golden Age, another that led to her quiet retirement following an ousting. Something still needed to be decided but he couldn't see what.

Alistair, his old and dear friend, who was concerned but not overly worried by what was happening. Never had the Doctor been more grateful for his presence than in that moment.

And then there was Zoe, Jack, and Rose. Three people that he loved completely. Meeting them had saved him in so many different ways and had given him a future to look forward to again when he hadn't thought such a thing was possible. He regretted he wouldn't experience that future and the adventures he was sure were coming with his current body, but he was excited about the days to come. He was too weak to push himself to his feet, his bones beginning to shift and lose their shape, muscles contracting within in painfully. The agony was indescribable, but he had only eyes for his friends.

 _His family._

"You three," he said to them, and his voice was already beginning to change, "before I go, I just want you to know...you were fantastic."

Rose smiled through her tears, and Zoe leaned into Alistair whilst Jack swallowed against the emotion that ran through him, nodding.

He _loved_ them. "And you know what?"

"What?" Rose asked uncertainly.

"So was I."


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter Sixty-Five**

The light that spread under the surface of the Doctor's skin and swept around him like a storm gathering itself for its final fury was as bright as the sun, golden tendrils consuming him. His entire form was illuminated from within as he fell back onto the grating, arms stretched out to his sides; his fingers clenched in pain before snapping straight out as they changed. There was a moment where all anyone could hear was the burning rush of regeneration before the Doctor opened his mouth and screamed as the light flew out from every part of him. Unable to stare at it straight on, Zoe shied back from the brightness. She turned her face into Alistair's shoulder, and his hand came up to cover the back of her head, holding her to him as he pressed his face into her hair, shielding his own eyes from the fury of a Time Lord's death and rebirth.

The heat of his regeneration spilt over them and made their skin prickles as though they were standing too close to a fire that was spitting embers out at them. It was uncomfortable, and Zoe feared how painful it was for the Doctor. He kept screaming through the change, a death's roar through the fire, and the sheer noise of it was overwhelming. It was so _loud,_ like the noise of a furnace that kept being stoked higher and higher, and laced underneath it all was his scream of pain as his body changed so completely that his cells shifted and burned and were made anew in a fresh image.

It went on and on and on, lasting forever but no time at all, until Zoe thought she could bear it no longer. She wanted to help him, but Alistair held her tightly against him, hand tightening on her hip when her muscles shifted in movement. It ended abruptly. The noise cut out without warning, leaving a ringing silence in its wake; harsh, ragged breaths from those gathered by the door of the TARDIS were the only thing she could hear. Slowly, Zoe lifted her head from Alistair's shoulders, cheeks wet, and she stared at the Doctor's prone form.

He wasn't moving.

"Is he...dead?" Major Blake asked, tripping on his hesitation.

"No," Alistair said quietly, and he let his arm fall from around Zoe, his hand resting on her back as she straightened up. "He may be unconscious though. This process...it's rather unpredictable. There may be side effects."

"Side effects?" Jack asked, the words sticking in his dry mouth. His heart hammered heavily in his chest, and he felt like he couldn't breathe. "Like what?"

"Amnesia, most likely," he said, watching as Zoe inched her way forwards, hesitant and afraid. "Or an extreme burst of manic energy. He'll be okay. He just needs time to... _settle_ in his new body."

Rose whimpered.

Zoe approached the Doctor with caution. Their discussion on the topic of regeneration had touched upon a few issues – the pain he felt, the difficulties experienced afterwards – but never on the sheer, incomprehensible violence of the act itself. She didn't know why she was surprised. His body died, and he was made new again. She should have anticipated the violence of it, but seeing it happen in front of her was not something that she ever wanted to experience again. He had died before her eyes. It wasn't important that he still lived as the fact of the matter was that he died and there was nothing she had been able to do to save him.

Failure pulsed through her like a burning mark of shame seared upon her flesh. After everything – her sacrifices, her hard work, her lost years – she had failed to keep him safe.

"Doctor?" She asked, crouching at his side, reaching out to touch his arm. "Doctor, are you okay?"

Without any warning, he sat up.

Zoe startled and overbalanced. She fell back and stared up at him with wide eyes.

He wasn't wearing the face she expected.

"Hello. That was -" the Doctor said before stopping abruptly. His upper lip bulged as he ran his tongue ran across his teeth. He looked concerned. "New teeth. That's weird." He shook his head and met her eyes, a smiling stretching across his face. "Well, wasn't that exciting?"

The bow-tie wearing, floppy-haired Doctor she had been expecting wasn't the man she saw before her. Her big-eared Northern Doctor was gone and a face she hadn't seen before was in front of her. He grinned widely into the shocked silence around him, unperturbed by his friends' lack of reaction, and he started to catalogue the differences in his body. He stretched his arms out in front of him and waggled his fingers to text their dexterity. He bent at the waist to check that he had his knees, and he wriggled his hips against the ground.

"Two legs, two arms, two hands -" he narrated out loud. He tested his left wrist, rotating it thoughtfully, "slight weakness in the dorsal tubercle." His hands went to his hair, and a look of delight swept across his face. "Hair! I'm not bald. Oh, a lot of hair. I like it." He tried to look at it before he gave up and looked to Zoe. "Be honest. Am I ginger?"

Her eyes moved slowly to his hair. There really was a lot of it, and his hands had made it stick up in every direction. An urge to reach out and touch it filled her. Instead, she shook her head and tried to speak.

"No," she whispered before she cleared her throat and tried again. "No, sorry, you're kind of...brown, I guess."

"Oh!" He exclaimed in loud disappointment; they all jumped. "I wanted to be ginger! I've never been ginger before!"

A smile started to creep across her face against her will. It emerged from the depths of her grief, surprise, and exhaustion to pick across the blank canvas of her features and twitch itself into existence. There was no other option for her but to smile. He was as ridiculous as he ever was. There was no one else in her life who would die and then complain about the colour of their hair. It was such a Doctor thing to do, and the grief that she felt over the loss of the face and body she loved began to ebb. She knew that missing his strange face with its rugged plains, aquiline nose, and gorgeous blue eyes was in her future, something for her to do when things were calmer and quieter. It was the face that she had first met after all, and the face that she had fallen in love with. Yet it didn't matter. He could be two-foot tall and orange and it wouldn't make a difference to her.

Different face, different voice, different means of expressing himself but, at the end of it all, he was still the same man.

He was still the Doctor.

"It looks nice," Zoe offered, rallying her good humour to her and smiling. "If that helps."

His smile was different – wide and toothy – but it sent the same rush of warmth through her, and she felt her cheeks heating at having it directed at her. His fingers moved through his hair with ever increasing glee, thumbs catching on the sideburns that grew down the side of his face.

"What's this?" He asked, delighted. "A beard?" He rubbed his bare chin. "Nope. _Sideburns_! I have sideburns! Interesting choice, but that's all right. I like the sideburns."

His played with the hair, distracted by it.

"I think I need to sit down."

Jack dropped where he stood, sitting on the floor with a heavy thud, half-dragging Mickey down with him. His long legs splayed out crookedly around him, and he sat hunched over. It was a position that Jack rarely sat in as he was a proponent of proper posture and was constantly poking Rose in her back to make her stand straighter. He argued that a good posture meant good overall health. Rose simply replied that he was a bothering fusspot who needed to keep his fingers out of her back. He stared at the Doctor, unable to take his eyes off of him, and he looked more dishevelled than any of them had seen him before: hand wind blown, shirt missing, blood stained down one side of his legs. Though he still looked frustratingly handsome.

"That was – it was –"

"Insane," Mickey finished for him. His body slithered to the ground next to Jack, and they leaned against each other whilst he kept hold of Rose's hand. "You just...you _exploded_."

"Regenerated," the Doctor corrected cheerfully. "I always forget it's a bit dramatic from the outside. Although, kind of dramatic from the inside as well. All those cells changing and trying to decide how much hair there should be and what height's the best. Ooo, height!"

Jack stared. "What?"

He jumped to his feet in one smooth bound. Zoe fell back onto her elbows and looked up at him. "Not bad, not bad. Exactly two centimetres taller than before."

"Yep, this is completely insane," Jack said with a nod, almost as though he was talking to himself. "I mean, I'd heard the rumours about regeneration, but I didn't think – no one ever said it was anything like - I didn't actually think –" he struggled with completing his thoughts and settled for just gaping at the Doctor. "You've _completely_ changed."

"Still me though," the Doctor said with a happy smile, tilting his face towards Rose who had yet to say anything, frozen as she was where she stood. "Same old Doctor. Right, Rose?"

Rose stared at him and opened her mouth to say something. All that came out was a strangled sound before she joined Jack and Mickey on the floor. Her face didn't seem to know what emotion to express first and so simply expressed them all simultaneously.

The Doctor, finally recognising that they weren't entirely on board with recent events, looked concerned. "Oh, dear. Are you all okay?"

"Perhaps," Alistair intervened smoothly, his voice sprinkled with amusement, "we should all consider having a nice cup of tea. Get something hot and strong into our stomachs to deal with the shock, hm? The kitchen still in the same place, Doctor?"

The Doctor nodded, distracted as he was by his bottom lip. He sank his teeth into it and gnawed upon it curiously.

"If someone would be kind enough to help me?" Alistair asked, counting how many people there were in the console room. "I'm afraid my mobility's somewhat limited these days and carrying ten cups of tea is going to prove difficult for me."

"Allow me, sir," Major Blake said, letting go of the railing that he had been gripping so tightly his fingers ached when he flexed them open.

"Yes, yes," Llewellyn said weakly, trembling as he lifted himself up onto his feet and shook where he stood. "A cup of tea...that sounds lovely. Just lovely. Exactly what I need."

Harriet glanced at him, concerned. "Mr Llewellyn, are you well?"

"Perfectly well, ma'am, absolutely fine," he said, sounding the exact opposite. His skin was pale, and his body seemed incapable of not shaking. "Aliens and men exploding and changing their faces – it's all fine. Perfectly, absolutely, 100% fine."

"You don't sound fine," the Doctor pointed out conversationally. "You sound like you're in shock."

"That, good sir, is a strong possibility."

"All right, love," Jackie said, snapping back to herself. She stepped around Harriet and approached the scientist who trembled violently. She put her arms around him and began to guide him in careful steps across the console room. "There, there. I know. It's all a bit mad, innit? Let's get some nice strong tea in you, plenty of sugar, an' you'll be back to yourself in no time at all. Come on now."

Jackie led the shocked scientist out of the console room, leading the way for Alistair and Blake, her voice growing fainter and fainter the further away she got. Zoe pushed herself up so that she was sitting. She bent over at the waist and let her hair fall down in between her knees, sinking her fingers into it to scrub vigorously at her scalp. A hand appeared before her eyes, long-fingered with dark hairs sporadically placed on the back of the pale skin, and she smiled to herself. She took hold of it, instantly noticing the differences – thinner, bonier, but just as lovely –, and the Doctor helped her to her feet. She bumped into him and looked up into his face. His eyes were brown now – a lovely mixture of dark browns and golds that flecked together within the narrow set of his face. His free hand went to her elbow, supporting her.

"Hello," the Doctor said.

"Hello," Zoe replied.

His new face was more classically handsome than his last. His cheekbones were high, and he had a narrow nose with a dusting of freckles across the bridge that crept into his cheeks. His eyes that watched her with a familiar fondness and care were warm and brown. She reached up and gently took his chin by the tips of her fingers, turning his head from one side to the other so that she could get a proper look at him. The smooth skin beneath her fingers told him she didn't need to shave, a change from a few hours ago when his stubble had rubbed against her as they kissed. She wasn't entirely sure about whether or not she liked the sideburns, and she traced the tip of a finger around the shell of his ear before she tugged on it playfully – much more normal sized. He scrunched his nose at her, and she smiled. She took both her hands and, on the balls of her feet, she ran her fingers through his brown hair that had the odd streak of sun-kissed lightness running through it. His eyelids fluttered and a blissful expression swept across his face. She fixed the damage his own hands had done and smoothed it into some semblance of order, surprised at how soft and full it was.

"So what do you think?" He asked her softly, an air of intimacy wrapped around them, making them forget they weren't alone. "Sexy or put a bag over my head?"

Her smile widened mischievously. "You really want me to answer that?"

"Blimey, how bad is it?" He asked, worried, but she just laughed.

"It's lovely," she promised him. "Very handsome. You're not Northern any more though."

"Yeah, I noticed that," he said. "Bit of a shame. Love a good accent me."

She removed her hands from his hair and pulled him into a hug. His arms wrapped around her, bending slightly so he could hug her without her straining into it. She closed her eyes, pressing her face into his shoulder, and held onto him tightly. His leather jacket creaked under her grip, and she breathed into him. A hand rubbed soothingly down the length of her back, and he turned his face into her head, closing his eyes in her riotous mass of curls that exploded everywhere. His body tingled and ached with the lingering regeneration energy that coursed through him, tweaking and altering as it went. He was still cooking, and it would be a few more hours before he was done, but having Zoe in his arms was worth the aches and pains that came with inhabiting a brand new body.

The sharp ring of a phone made them pull apart.

Zoe reached down to her pocket automatically but it was Alex who dipped his hand into his pocket and removed his mobile. He looked as shaken as Llewellyn had but was holding himself together admirably. Zoe supposed that working for Harriet he was used to all manner of high-pressure situations and aliens, whilst outside the normal realm of his day-to-day responsibilities, was probably quite similar. He answered his phone with an apologetic grimace, embarrassed for interrupting the moment. Zoe released the Doctor and stepped back from him. She became aware that she was drenched in his blood, and she picked at a dry spot on her jumper and pulled it away from her body.

"I'm going to have to throw this away," she said, annoyed. "Dammit. I liked this jumper. This was a comfortable jumper."

"He's just changed his face an' you're worried about your jumper?" Rose asked, finding her voice at last. She stared at her sister in disbelief. "Are you mad?"

"My therapist says no," Zoe replied, "but others say yes. Reinette thought I was missing a few screws, which is, y'know, a lovely thing to hear from your wife."

The Doctor rocked back on his heels, testing his balance. "Why did she think that?"

"Probably something to do with being from the future and travelling the stars," she said with a small shrug. "Hard to tell though."

"I think I need a drink," Jack said, interrupting them, and he used Mickey's body to help push himself to his feet. "Is it too early for a drink?"

"It's Christmas," Zoe told him. "It's pretty much the law to drink in the morning on Christmas."

"Perfect," he sighed gratefully, approaching the Doctor with more caution than he usually displayed. "And you...you're okay?"

"Never better," the Doctor grinned at him. "Go on then, captain. What do you think of the new body? You like it?"

"I don't know," Jack replied, and a gleam slipped into his eyes. "I've only seen the face."

"Oi!"

Jack laughed and he drew the Doctor into a tight, relief-filled embraced that was happily returned. Jack pulled back and held him by the shoulders. "What's the likelihood of that happening again any time soon?"

"Very unlikely," he replied. "Regenerations can last for centuries. I think the longest someone was in a body was two thousand years, but they were _old_ by the end of it. The average tends to be five hundred odd years." He rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "I've been a bit bad at that to be honest. Not always my fault, but there's always some sort of trouble and I do seem to have a propensity for it."

"You've also got a bit of a gob on you, as well," Mickey observed, standing.

"Apparently, yes I do," the Doctor said, surprised, and Zoe shook her head with a small laugh, glancing away to Harriet and Alex.

A pang of uncertainty echoed through her chest, and she stepped away from the Doctor and made her way towards them. Alex attempted to keep his voice low but Zoe heard it anyway – _Torchwood_.

"Harriet," she said, stepping over Rose. "Don't –"

"Stand them down," Harriet said, speaking across Zoe whose mouth froze around her protestations.

"Ma'am?"

"They're no longer needed," she said firmly, her decision made.

Unbeknownst to anyone, and missed by the Doctor, the timelines solidified around Harriet Jones as she stepped onto a road that would bring Britain into its Golden Age.

Zoe stared at Harriet as Alex turned to relay the message. She didn't know what she felt but surprise, relief, and confusion warred within her. Harriet moved to stand next to her, her arms folded across her chest, and her eyes drank in the sight of the Doctor who was suffering being poked and prodded by Jack and Mickey with good humour whilst Rose threw the occasional strained comment at him from the floor.

"He's a remarkable man, is he not?" Harriet commented.

"Yes," Zoe agreed automatically, turning so that they faced the same direction. "Completely mad though."

"Oh, absolutely."

They shared a fond laugh, and Zoe rocked her shoulder into Harriet's who unfolded her arms and placed one around the back of her shoulders.

"You didn't destroy the ship," she said quietly so that no one but Alex could hear them.

"No, I didn't," Harriet agreed with a heavy sigh. "I have no idea of what just happened here inside this miraculous ship but it seems that the Doctor died for us. It seemed...wrong to dishonour that sacrifice with destruction, regardless of how alive he is now."

"Thank you," she said, sliding her arm around Harriet's waist. "I mean it, thank you for not doing what many others would have done in your place."

Harriet drew her close and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

"Right!" Jackie exclaimed, entering the console room with a tray of tea in front of her and three men trailing behind carrying more tea and some cake that she found in the fridge. "Tea and cake, you lot. Come an' get it."

* * *

Jack wanted to stay and enjoy the impromptu picnic that was taking place of the floor of the console room – an eclectic group of people thrown together in order to save the world from destruction – but his hip throbbed with pain, and it reached a point where even he could bear it no longer. He put down his fruit bowl that Zoe had quickly put together, pointing out that whilst cake was a perfectly acceptable choice in breakfast food some fruit might also be nice, and stood up. He grunted at the effort, all eyes falling onto him. The Doctor's eyes darted down to his side where the blood had stained the length of his trousers and was still wet even as the blood on Zoe began to dry.

"Are you hurt?" The Doctor asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Jack lied. "But I am going to go and get this taken care of."

"I'll help," Zoe said, untangling herself from Harriet where the two women were leaning together, and she made to stand up.

He waved her back down. "Nah, don't worry about it. I know where everything is."

"Jack –"

"I've got him," Mickey interrupted, standing easily. He nearly tripped over Jackie who was cooing over pictures of Llewellyn's daughter Sian that he kept in his wallet. "We'll be back in a bit."

Zoe looked uncertain. "If you're sure?"

"The Doctor's stealing your cake," Jack said, knocking Zoe's attention away from him and onto the Doctor whom she attacked with a fork, attempting to stab at his hand to keep him from her half-eaten slice of chocolate cake.

"Traitor!" The Doctor called after him.

Jack just raised his middle finger behind his head and let the Doctor's new laugh follow him and Mickey from the room. Only when he was certain he could no longer be seen did he let the pain show. Mickey caught him when he stumbled and pulled his arm around his shoulders, supporting his weight. It wasn't the worst injury he had ever had – not even in the top twenty – but it did hurt. He also hadn't slept properly since returning from the Game Station, and he was beginning to feel the exhaustion creeping in around his edges. He wondered if persuading Mickey to join him in bed, solely so that he had someone warm to curl into, would work.

"You should've said somethin'," Mickey clucked his tongue in annoyance. "No sense in martyrin' yourself for cake."

"It was good cake though," Jack replied with an easy grin.

"You're an idiot."

He laughed lightly. "I've heard that before."

"C'mon, mate," Mickey said, easing him into the sickbay. "Tell me what you need."

A number of filthy remarks came to mind, but Jack kept them behind his teeth. He enjoyed flirting with Mickey, even if the other man barely seemed to notice it half the time. Men in the 21st century appeared to be conditioned not to recognise flirtation unless it was from a member of the opposite sex. In Jack's time, it was very rare to limit oneself to one gender when it came to sexual partners; it was a part of Rose and Zoe's culture that he found baffling. He had asked Rose once, after learning that Zoe had been lost to time and married to a woman, whether she was interested in women and Rose had laughed as though the idea was as strange to her as travelling in time was to most people. He didn't understand it himself. He didn't understand why people would choose to limit themselves when there was so much joy and adventure to be found through exploration.

"The dermal regenerator, some gauze, a bottle of antiseptic, and some gloves." Jack listed off. "Also, I need the soluble staples."

"What do they look like?"

He described them as he unbuckled his belt and eased the top of his trousers down over his hips. He winced at the pull on his injured muscles. Using his fingers he wipe some of the blood away to view the damage. It was a deep cut that went down to the bone but nothing vital had been hit. It would hurt for a few days unless he remembered where the Doctor kept the good painkillers. Mickey tossed a packet of gauze over his shoulder, and it glanced off Jack's shoulder to land on the bed. He ripped it open and used a square to wipe away at the blood properly.

"Fuck," Mickey swore when he turned back, "that looks bad."

"It's fine," Jack said, "just a little deep. Can you pass me the gloves?"

"Just lean there," he said with a grimace. "I've got enough first aid trainin' to clean a wound."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Then thanks," Jack said, easing back with a sigh.

He tugged the band of his trousers down a little further wishing to remove them but, conscious of Mickey's sensibilities, he kept them on.

Mickey grabbed a seat and pulled it across to sit in front of him. Jack's breath caught in his throat at how close they were to each other, and he looked up at the ceiling as deft hands cleaned away at the wound. The antiseptic rolled down and stained his already-ruined trousers as it stung the wound clean and thought about how nice it was to have someone else tend to his injuries.

The first time he was injured after he started travelling with the Doctor was in Berlin, after their encounter with the nesting Zygons and he had gone head first down a flight of stairs, he remembered lying on the floor with Rose screaming over him wondering how in the hell he was going to fix himself up. He had come aboard the TARDIS with nothing but the clothes on his back – no money, no food, no nothing –, and he wasn't sure the Doctor even liked him, certain he was going to be left at the nearest inhabitable outpost. The surge of panic nearly choked him when the Doctor came across them in that stairwell and sent them back to the TARDIS. He was cracking jokes and trying to cheer Rose up even as he stumbled through the sickbay, knowing that he needed medical treatment but uncertain how to pay the Doctor for it, when the Doctor swept in with a sticky Zoe on his heels and forced him onto the bed.

" _Free medical care_ ," the Doctor had said knowingly, and Jack remembered the hot flush of embarrassment that rolled through him at being so obvious. " _One of the perks of TARDIS travel._ "

Zoe was right when she said that he wanted someone to take care of him.

"Where d'you learn how to use a sword anyway?" Mickey asked, picking up a new piece of gauze and wetting it with antiseptic. "They teach you that at that Time Agency of yours?"

"Actually, yes," Jack said, and Mickey looked up, startled. "I was trained in a number of different weapons. We never knew what situation we were going to end up in, and it was useful to be fully versed in a wide range of weaponry."

Mickey nodded as though that made sense. "So go on then, tell me...how did a Time Agent from the 51st century end up throwin' in his lot with the Doctor?"

"Rose and Zoe haven't told you?" He asked, surprised.

"I know you met in the 1940s," Mickey replied, "an' that the Doctor thought you were a conman, but that's about it."

"I was a conman," he said honestly, shrugging whilst Mickey looked up at him. "I left the Time Agency under unknown circumstances, and I needed a way to make a living. I had my Vortex Manipulator – stolen, of course – and my knowledge of history. Seemed like a natural fit."

"What do I do with this?" Mickey asked, holding up the dermal regenerator. Jack took it from his hands and programmed it to repair muscle fibres before showing him quickly how to use it. He held it over the wound. "Unknown circumstances? What does that mean?"

"It means I can't remember," he said. "There are two years of my life that are a complete blank to me. My memories are gone, erased. Stolen from me by the Time Agency."

"Why'd they do that?"

"No idea," Jack said with a frown, probing at the missing memories like one would a sore tooth. "So when I woke up and realised that my memories were gone, I got the hell out of there as quickly as I could. I ran into the Doctor and the girls about three years after that. Didn't exactly put my best foot forward, but I was invited on board anyway."

Mickey pulled the dermal regenerator away and carefully prodded the wound. "You think you'll ever get them back?"

"I don't know," he sighed, "maybe. Or maybe it's best that I don't. Maybe those memories were taken from me for a reason."

"The Doctor'll help you if you ask him," Mickey pointed out. "This seems to be the kind of thing that he actually does. An' if he doesn't then Zoe will."

"Yeah," Jack replied quietly. It wasn't as though he hadn't considered asking for help, but he had a good thing going with the Doctor and the girls. He didn't want to risk that for whatever those two years held. "Maybe one day."

Mickey frowned at the wound. "It's not healin' any more."

"That's fine," he said, reaching for the staple gun that used soluble staples. He held it out to Mickey. "Just staple the wound."

"Without any drugs?"

"Quick and easy," Jack winked, and Mickey shrugged.

Jack grit his teeth against the pain as Mickey held the wound closed with his fingers and stapled it shut so that it would heal into a scar. It took longer than it would have done if Jack did it himself as Mickey was careful to make sure that the staples were straight and later, when it scarred, Jack was grateful for his care and attention. He set the gun down and cleaned the remnants of blood from his purpling hip.

"You are goin' to have a wicked bruise," Mickey told him.

Jack laughed and picked up a waterproof covering – a thin sheet of sticky plastic that allowed the wound to breathe whilst also keeping it clean and dry –, and he smoothed it on over the staples so that he was able to shower later. He cleaned his hands on another piece of gauze as Mickey put everything away again.

"Thank you," Jack said sincerely, "for helping."

"No problem, mate," Mickey said, washing his hands in the sink. "Should probably get back. God knows what the Doctor's done to himself since we've been gone."

Jack grinned. "It was really weird, wasn't it? That wasn't just me."

"Craziest fuckin' thing I've ever seen," he said, shaking his head. "He exploded an' now he's got a different face. Like what the fuck is that?"

"I'll tell you what though," Jack said, and Mickey looked over at him, "I bet it keeps relationships really fresh. Not stuck with one face constantly, different bodies to explore – hey!"

He laughed when Mickey through a wad of tissue at him and then aimed a punch at his shoulder that Jack easily dodged, catching Mickey's wrist in his hand. He misjudged his own balance, and his eyes went wide as he lost his footing. Mickey caught him with his free hand, and Jack's breath hitched in his throat, excitement and anticipation thrumming through him at how close they were. Mickey seemed just as surprised, but he didn't tear himself away as he might have done with another man. He stood still, his hand gripping hold of Jack's upper arm and his wrist held loosely in Jack's grip, aware of how close they were but not inclined to move away.

"Mickey –" Jack said quietly, his name forming a question.

Against his will, Mickey's eyes dropped to Jack's mouth, which parted and his mind caught on the idea of kissing him, curious and terrified all at once. He wondered if it was like kissing a woman. Suddenly, he was desperate to find out. His head barely moved, signalling his intent, and Jack shifted a little closer and –

"Guys, Harriet and Alistair are –" Zoe stopped in the doorway, her eyes wide as she took in the sight before her. Mickey wrenched away from Jack quickly, leaving him to stagger and struggle to regain his balance. Her eyes darted between them, and her mind went blank over what to say. "Er – Harriet and Alistair are leaving. Thought you might want to say goodbye."

"Good idea," Mickey said, face dark red.

He avoided Jack's eyes as he hurried out of the sickbay. Zoe quickly stepped to one side to let him pass. She looked to Jack.

"Did I interrupt something?"

Jack swallowed. "Maybe."

* * *

"Stop it."

"Ow! I just want to look."

"No one here wants to see you naked, now stop it."

"But –"

"Keep – your – clothes – on."

Alistair approached Zoe and the Doctor with amusement in every step. Their squabble was light-hearted and representative of their relationship as a whole. Alistair found that he enjoyed watching them interact as both of them seemed lighter and happier in the other's company. He watched the Doctor's eyes narrow as he assessed the situation, attempting to judge how much he could get away with without Zoe's temper snapping in half. He decided against pushing her as her expression didn't flicker in the face of his displeasure. Her mouth remained set and a small muscle in her jaw twitched. Reluctantly, he let go of the hem of his jumper. Alistair was privately relieved. He had seen enough of the Doctor naked in a number of different bodies to last him a lifetime. He didn't need new memories of the stretches of pale flesh and appendages seared into his mind; at least not when he still had Christmas lunch to look forward to.

"Oh, hello, Alistair," Zoe said, catching sight of him. She gave him a warm smile. "Tell me, has he always been this stubbornly ridiculous?"

The Doctor made a sound of protest. "I'm right here."

"Absolutely," Alistair said, ignoring the Doctor. "Why, I remember one time when he was being his usual rude self –"

"I beg your pardon?"

"And he was calling me all manner of names," he continued. "'Pompous, self-opinionated idiot' I believe was your choice of words that day."

The Doctor's cheeks heated with embarrassment. "Now, I'm sure I didn't –"

"Those were your exact words, Doctor, unless you intend to call me a liar," Alistair said, both hands resting on the top of his cane, and there was a boyish look to his face that made the years fall away from him.

Zoe's eyes sparkled with laughter. "Are you calling him a liar, Doctor?"

His scowl was ruined by the fact that his mouth twitched up at the corners.

"Do go on, Alistair," she said, interested to hear the end of the story. "He was roundly insulting you and then what happened?"

"He went forward a few seconds in time using an infernal TARDIS console that had been causing us so much trouble, and he went a few hundred feet to the east of the warehouse," he explained.

Zoe glanced to the Doctor, curious as to why there was a spare TARDIS console lying around UNIT, but she found him busily examining a coral strut. "Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

"He materialised right into a rubbish tip," Alistair said, and she choked on her next breath. "He came back into the room absolutely covered in rubbish: a banana peel on his shoulder, something wet and slimy in his hair. He smelt awful too, and his temper was no better."

Zoe laughed. She pressed a hand against her stomach and rocked back on her feet, laughing hard at his past misfortune. The Doctor released a long, heavy sigh filled with grievance, and he turned his new eyes onto Alistair.

"Really?" He asked, resigned. "That's the story you tell her?"

"I've got plenty more in my back pocket if you'd like me to choose another?"

"Absolutely not," the Doctor said immediately. He glanced at Zoe. "It wasn't entirely my fault –"

"I'm sure it was," she said through her laughter. She wiped her fingers beneath her eyes. "I just like that you insulted him first and then karma kicked you roundly in the ass."

Alistair looked down at his feet and laughed at that.

"The two of you are horrible," the Doctor decided, "and I regret every introducing you."

"I'm afraid you're far too late to do anything about that now," Alistair said. "Zoe and I are good friends now."

"Absolutely," she agreed, flashing him a wide grin. "So you, dear Doctor, are shit out of luck."

"Don't you need to say goodbye to Harriet?" The Doctor asked, scrambling for a way to separate the two before any more of his past became public knowledge.

He didn't mind Zoe knowing those stories but he was suddenly aware of just how many Alistair actually had about him. The look in her eyes let him know that she knew exactly what he was doing, but she let him do it anyway. She turned to Alistair, and they embraced each other with the affection of friends. The Doctor watched as his old friend whispered something into Zoe's ear that made her nod her head before they released each other. She kissed his soft white bristles and left them alone as she slipped out of the TARDIS to say her farewells to Harriet Jones.

"What did you say to her?" He asked.

"Mind your own business," Alistair replied lightly, and the Doctor scowled. "I was thinking to invite you round for Christmas dinner since you're actually on Earth for it for a change, but it seems that you have a perfectly nice place to spend it this year."

The Doctor hummed his agreement. "As long as Jackie doesn't kill me with her cooking, I'll be fine."

Alistair rapped his knuckles against the Doctor's arm in a gentle chastisement. "You've got a rather lovely group of friends, but I've found you've always been particularly lucky in that regard."

The Doctor smiled, content. "I have, haven't I?"

"You should be careful though," he said quietly, his concern slipping through. "You're going through your regenerations a little quickly. How many are left now?"

He hesitated. "Two."

Alistair breathed in deeply. "Please be careful. I know you can't always be given your life, but they must last longer than your previous body. Two or three years isn't enough. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for Zoe."

He swallowed against the knot of emotion in his throat. "Careful, Brig. You're sounding as though you care."

"Don't be a fool," Alistair said. "Of course I care."

The Doctor felt awkward and uncomfortable in the face of Alistair's obvious concern. He cleared his throat and said the first honest thing that came to his mind. "I'm glad you were here. I think it helped the others having someone who's seen it happen...I know it helped me."

Alistair gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "Although, I don't recall it being that violent. What's changed?"

"Probably the effect of Gallifrey being gone," the Doctor said. He didn't remember much about his previous regeneration but that wasn't a surprise; there wasn't a lot he remembered of the immediate aftermath of using the Moment just a dark, aching stretch of pain and grief. "Who knows? Regeneration is a tricky beast at the best of times, and I had just been stabbed."

"Yes, enjoy that conversation with Ms Tyler later," Alistair laughed, and the Doctor's face pulled into a fresh scowl. He held out his hand. "Let's not leave it so long next time. I have a bottle of brandy that I wouldn't mind sharing with an old friend."

"That sounds like a plan," the Doctor promised, taking his hand and pulling him into a hug, patting him on the back. "Take care of yourself, Alistair. And give my love to Doris and the kids."

Alistair patted his arm fondly before adjusting his grip on his walking stick. The Doctor watched as he went off to speak with Major Blake who waited for the prime minister to finish her conversation with Zoe. His eyes swept over Harriet and Zoe, their conversation looking serious from a distance, before he stepped away from the door and back into the TARDIS properly. Jackie had disappeared to the flat to get the turkey going and to ensure that Llewellyn got home safely, something he appreciated her dealing with that. He wasn't sure where Jack had got to after tending to his wound but Mickey had rushed out of the TARDIS like he was on fire, disappearing with a mutter about helping Jackie.

The Doctor wasn't sure what that meant, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He walked back up the ramp and smiled when he saw Rose standing there, pulling the sleeves of her pink hoodie down over her hands, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders. He absently noted that she needed to dye her hair again as her dark roots were beginning to show. He kept meaning to take her to a salon on Wednesday – not the day, but the planet – as it had the best salons in the Milky Way and she could have her hair dyed there permanently or simply ensure that it last longer than the it took for her hair to grow and her roots started to show.

"Hello, hello," the Doctor smiled, bounding up the ramp. He was filled with energy, and he wondered when he was going to crash. He was pleased though as he was really handling his regeneration better than normal. "You weren't here just now. Where did you sneak off to?"

"I didn't sneak," she said, sounding _off_."You were too busy tryin' to get naked."

He grinned. "Got to check out the new body. There are all sorts of things I don't know about it yet. Like scars!" She jumped at his sudden rise in volume. "I might have a scar I don't know about. Ooo, I hope it's something interesting like Dumbledore with his scar of the London Underground."

"Dumbledore's not real."

"He might be," he said, teasing. "Hogwarts might be completely real."

She hesitated. "Is it?"

"Nah," he admitted, "but wouldn't it be great if it was?"

Rose rolled her eyes, and he noticed that she wasn't looking at him – not directly anyway. He shifted so that he was in front of her, and her eyes fell to a point just over his shoulder. He slipped his face into her eyeline but her eyes darted away again. He frowned, confused.

"What's going on?" The Doctor asked, trying to get her to look at her, making himself dizzy in the process. "Why aren't you looking at me?"

"I am."

"No you're not."

"Shut up, I am."

"Nuh-uh," he said, bouncing around in front of her. "You're looking anywhere but me. Look at me, Rose. Look at me. Look at me. Look at me. Look –"

"Oh my god!" Rose exclaimed, frustrated. Her eyes snapped to him and he stopped bouncing. "There! Happy now?"

"I'd be happier to know why you don't want to look at me," the Doctor said before a thought struck him. "Oh dear...just how ugly am I?"

Her cheeks filled with colour, and she looked away from him again, pulling on the ends of her sleeves, mumbling. "You're not."

"What was that?"

She sighed, aggrieved. "You're not ugly, okay?"

He grinned at her. "Little bit sexy?"

"I hate you so much right now," she told him "Why didn't you tell us you could go around changin' your face? Why d'you let us find out like that?"

"Oh," the Doctor said, mirth fading from him. "I – well – it's not something I thought about, to be honest. I mean, Zoe knew –"

"Zoe knew?" Rose asked, voice high and betrayed.

He winced. "Yeah, but only because she's met a future version of myself. That's all. Remember? That night we met Jack and she was there but from the future?" Rose nodded. "She was off with me from the future and that me had a different face."

Rose fell silent and just stared at him. Her eyes flicked over his face, and he saw the lack of recognition in her eyes. There was none of the usual warmth he was used to in her face; none of the easy affection and banter that formed the basis of their friendship. It hurt him that she looked right at him and didn't recognise him.

"I'm still me," he told her softly, "just in a different package, that's all." He patted his stomach. "Little thinner though, which is weird, but I'll get used to it."

"Can you – can you change back?" She asked, traces of hope coating her words and his hearts sank further.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

He felt the pain of that. "Oh."

"Can you?"

"No," he said, disappointed, looking at the floor. He hadn't expected this, particularly not when everyone else had taken it in their stride. Even Jackie had accepted it easily, muttering something about alien nonsense before hugging him and giving his bum a squeeze, ignoring his horrified yelp. "Do you want to leave?"

Shock whipped across her face. "Do youwant me to leave?"

"No!" He exclaimed. "No, of course not, but...your choice...if you want to go home..."

He trailed off uselessly. He desperately didn't want her to leave. He knew that Zoe was going to stay no matter what, and Jack had nowhere else to go, but Rose had other options. He just hadn't thought regenerating would make her contemplate those options.

"Up to you," he said with a small shrug as though it didn't matter to him what she chose, "you know. You've already been here three months. Got a job and everything. Fish and chips, sausage and mash, beans on toast...Christmas dinner. Didn't Jackie say she was cooking a turkey? Although, knowing your mother, nut loaf would be more appropriate."

Rose looked down quickly, hiding a smile. Hope flashed through the Doctor.

"Was that a smile?"

"No."

"You smiled," he teased her.

"No, I didn't!"

"Oh, come on!" He exclaimed, a little annoyed. "All I did was change! I didn't go anywhere. I'm still here. I'm still the Doctor."

"It's just..." Rose hesitated. "You're so...different."

"Only with this," he gestured his hand up and down his body before tapping his forefinger on his temple. "But in here, that's all the same."

"I don't know," she muttered, unconvinced. "You're just...it's so... _alien_."

"I am an alien, Rose."

"I know that!" She cried, exasperated with him and the entire morning. "But you exploded an' then you disappeared an' now there's this an' it's...I don't understand how you can be the same person. You have a completely different face! You don't even have an accent any more. An' I waited all this time for you to come back an' you've just gone an' left me again!"

 _Oh_ he thought, understanding flipping a switch in his mind.

"I was dying," the Doctor said seriously, dropping all notes of teasing from his voice. "You saw that. That knife in my chest was killing me, and to save my own life I changed my body. Every single cell changed so that I could keep living. It's something my people were able to do, a quirk of evolving near the Untempered Schism –"

"That thing that messed with Zoe's head?"

"That's the one," he nodded, and fresh worry appeared on Rose's face. He hurried to reassure her. "But don't worry. Your sister's as human as they come. She won't be changing her face."

"Good."

"And to prove to you that I'm the same man you met," he said, remembering that wonderful day when he first set eyes on Rose Tyler and colour filled his universe again. "The very first words I said to you, trapped in that basement at Henrik's, surrounded by shop window dummies all those months ago...I took your hand –" he reached for her and slipped his hand around hers; his thumb moved across her knuckles lightly, "and I said one word, just one... _run_."

Her eyes held his, and he saw the moment acceptance hit her.

"Doctor?" She whispered.

"Hello," he smiled at her.

Tears welled in her eyes and she launched herself at him, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders and his went around her waist, lifting her from the ground. Relief flooded his senses, and he buried his face in her shoulder and smiled.

* * *

Zoe left Alistair and the Doctor behind her as she stepped out of the TARDIS still smiling over the thought of the Doctor ending up in a rubbish pile. The wind was sharp and bracing, and she hunched in on herself as it slipped through the spaces of her jumper and made her aware that she was still covered in blood. She breathed in deeply and enjoyed the smell of London. She had taken a trip to London whilst studying at university just to see what it was like in the 32nd century, and it was as futuristic and wonderful as she hoped for when she was little. It simply didn't smell right though. The air was clean – purified from the various pollution controls that were dotted around the city – and whilst that was a benefit, it didn't smell like home. She liked the sharp tang of London in the 21st century. It was comforting in a way that only things from a safe and loving childhood could be.

She rolled her neck and felt it crack satisfyingly. Her body ached. Despite the sleep she had managed to snatch after delivering the Doctor and Jack safely back to Earth, she was still sore from her mission on Skaro. Sex with the Doctor hadn't helped either. She was sore in places that couldn't be traced back to Skaro because of him, and she was torn between wanting to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head or sinking into a hot, deep bath so that her muscles could finally relax. Her shoulder felt sore, and she gave it an experimental roll, grimacing when it tugged at her nerve endings. She shook it off and walked over to Harriet where she stood standing close to the edge of the building, looking out over the view that Zoe had grown up with. She nodded to a seated Alex as she passed, his knees pulled up to his chest and his head resting back against the wall, looking as tired as Zoe felt. She stopped next to Harriet and folded her arms across her chest in an attempt to steal some warmth back into her.

"Is this your life now?" Harriet asked. "This wonderful, terrifying madness?"

Zoe thought about saying no, but the truth was that travelling with the Doctor was wonderful and terrifying and completely mad.

"It's not always this intense," she said diplomatically, and Harriet huffed out her laugh. Her eyes were amused but unconvinced. Zoe tilted her face up to the cloudy sky and enjoyed the wind across her skin. "Most days it's just like normal travel, you know? You visit markets and ancient ruins that aren't ancient when you visit them because we have time machine, but you try new food and you meet new people; you experience all sorts of things. Today and days like it are actually a rarity."

Harriet shook her head slowly, her diaphragm expanding with a deep breath. "Is this really the life you want for yourself?"

"For now, yes," Zoe said without hesitation. "You forget, I've had the quiet life. I had six years in France, four in Massachusetts, and seventeen years here in London. It's not the life I ever expected when I was seventeen, nor one I thought would last long, but it's my life now, and I like it."

"Do you worry that you're going to change?" Harriet asked, worrying a hangnail on her thumb, pressing down against it to feel a dull throb of pain. "That one day you'll look in the mirror and that you won't recognise yourself?"

Zoe considered her question seriously, though she half-suspected that Harriet was asking herself that same question.

"I think..." she began thoughtfully, choosing her words carefully, "that we all change. Life is about change, isn't it? It'd be properly boring if we all stayed who we were throughout the whole of our existence. Nothing new would ever happen; it would just be the same thing day in and day out. So no, I'm not worried I'm going to change because the person I see in the mirror...that's always going to be me. I'm going to be able to trace the thread of my life back from that day, to here, to Downing Street, to my birth. I'm always going to be Zoe Tyler."

Harriet looked away from her and out over the vista of London. Throughout her life she had gathered friends close and held them dear to her, making time for them even now that her life had changed beyond her wildest imaginations, but there were certain feelings that she found herself unable to discuss with them. Every time she attempted it, her concerns were brushed aside – not out of malice but simply because they didn't understand. Harriet didn't fault her friends their ignorance. Before becoming Prime Minister, the burdens of the job and how it changed a person were of no concern to her. Yet she was changing. Her decision to utilise Torchwood, even if she chose not to go through with it, was an example of that. She had never thought she was the type of person to choose violence over peace, but she had come close, and the only person she felt comfortable discussing it with was Zoe Tyler.

"Do you worry that there's a day coming when you won't recognise yourself?" Zoe asked, turning the question back onto her.

Harriet's lips twisted into a humourless smile. "Politics is a dirty game. The higher you rise, the dirtier you get."

"And you've just positioned yourself as world leader," Zoe observed. "Students for generations are going to be studying that speech you gave this morning. People are going to be looking to you to guide them now that they know we're not alone in the universe."

Harriet's face flickered with uncertainty and a hint of fear.

"I was only ever meant to be a backbencher," she admitted, letting her trust in Zoe lay her vulnerabilities between them. "I was never supposed to be in Downing Street that day. The prime minister had already cancelled our appointment when the ship crashed but I came in anyway. It was foolish, but I just wanted someone to listen."

"Now the whole world is listening," Zoe said with a wry smile. She turned and took Harriet's hands within hers. "Listen to me. I know that you're scared – of course you are, anyone with any sense would be. But you're a good woman, Harriet. This world needs good people in positions of power to effect change and to set us on a course for something better."

"And what gives me the right to be that person?" Harriet asked. "Who am I to decide the fate of an entire planet?"

Zoe considered her question, and Harriet was grateful for the fact that she didn't receive a glib response as her answer.

"I think the very fact that you're asking these questions of yourself," she said, "makes you the best person for the job."

"Prime Minister," Blake said from the side, and both Harriet and Zoe started in surprise. They hadn't heard him approach. He stood at a respectable distance from them so as not to overhear in to their conversation. Behind him Alistair was speaking to Alex, showing him pictures of his newest grandchild. "Your car is downstairs waiting for you."

"Ah, yes, thank you, major," Harriet replied, pulling her hand back from Zoe's. "I just need a few more minutes with Ms Tyler."

"Of course, ma'am," he said, and he made to leave before he stopped and turned back to Zoe. He snapped to attention and saluted her. Surprised delight climbed up through her. "An honour, ma'am."

She smiled at him. "The honour was mine, Major Blake. Thank you."

He inclined his head and left them alone to allow Alistair to angle the photograph and receive the proper adulation of his grandson who strongly resembled a reddened sack of flour.

"It's a shame that you're going to leave the planet," Harriet said, pulling their conversation back to more light-hearted territory. "I like having someone who isn't afraid to tell me the truth and to argue with me. You'd be surprised how quickly that stops when you become prime minister."

"I don't know," Zoe said. "I've seen prime minister questions."

"Of course you have," she laughed. "That doesn't count though. It's simply an exercise in bullying disguised as accountability." Zoe snorted. "I don't suppose I could tempt you into staying and joining my office, could you?"

"I think it's better for our friendship that we don't work together," she said honestly. "Besides, there's still so much I want to see out there. Planets to explore, people to meet, trouble to get into. I can't wait for it."

"I suspected you were somewhat mad when we met," Harriet said dryly, and Zoe laughed, unoffended. "It's been so good to see you again."

"It has," she agreed, eyes soft with tender affection. "And if you need a reminder that you're still the same person I met in Downing Street all those years ago – sorry, _months_ ago for you – then remember that when you had the opportunity, you didn't destroy the ship."

Reminded of her decision, Harriet looked away from her and out over the horizon.

"I'm not convinced that was the right decision to make," she admitted. "I imagine it's something I'm going to wrestle with for some time. Though please don't mistake me; my decision today was based solely in this context. Torchwood is here to stay. There may be a day when we're not fortunate enough to have the Doctor here to save the day and we may need them."

"Since I still don't know exactly what Torchwood is," Zoe said with the smallest hint of an edge to her words, "I'll just say this: if you have a weapon like what Torchwood appears to be to hand, then you'll always be tempted to use it. The best thing to do is to get rid of it for good and remove the temptation before you do something that can't be reversed."

"Perhaps," Harriet began, "we're going to have to agree to disagree on this point."

Zoe, worn thin by the last three days and not wanting to argue a point she didn't fully understand, let the conversation come to an end. "For now at least."

"Come here, my precious girl," Harriet said, opening her arms. Zoe willingly stepped into them, hugging her with a fierce affection that wasn't dimmed by their disagreements. Her breath warmed Zoe's ear as they hugged, and it was exactly what she needed in that moment. "Please be safe out there."

"I will," Zoe promised, swallowing against the knot of emotion in her throat. "And you be amazing here."

Harriet pulled back at wiped away the wetness from her eyes. "Don't be a stranger."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Harriet pressed a kiss to her cheek before she left her standing on the edge of the building. She turned and waved goodbye to Blake, Alex, and Alistair. She remained standing there, the wind buffeting her from behind, and she sat on the edge of the building. She bent in half and rested her forehead on her knees, sleep pulling at her from all angles. She might have fallen asleep had it not been for –

"I have a mole."

Zoe raised her head and looked up at the Doctor. It took her a moment to realise that in the time he had been left unsupervised, he had partially undressed himself. His bare chest was the first thing she saw: pale and streaked with dried blood. She blinked at him, half-offended by how pale he was. Despite the overcast day and promise of drizzle later, his paleness was close to blinding. A quip about needing sunglasses rose to her lips before she looked up into his face, and it fell away. He looked happy about his discovery and eager to share it with her. She was reminded of Reinette discovering something new – a new flower or a new dessert – and how her first thought had always been to seek Zoe out and share it with her. When she had started to feel the same, when her first thought was to hunt down Reinette and tell her about the new weird thing that she had discovered about the 18th century that day, she realised she was in love. The fact that she was the Doctor's port of call for such things caused a huge surge of affection to crash through her for this strange man who changed _everything_ for her. She found it difficult to speak for a few seconds, struggling to wrestle her emotions under control.

"A mole?" She asked when she was able to speak normally once more.

"Between my shoulder blades," he said, turning in a circle so that she could see his back. He was much thinner than he had been; she was certain it wouldn't be difficult to wrap her arms around him. "I have a mole."

Zoe rose to her feet, a little unsteady, and she found the mole with her eyes. It was small, brown, and settled directly between his shoulder blades. She reached out and pressed the tip of her finger against it. Fine goosebumps erupted across his skin at her touch.

"Do you like the mole?" She asked curiously, letting it rest beneath her fingertip.

"I _love_ the mole."

She fought against her smile.

"You're a strange, strange man," Zoe informed him fondly, stroking her finger down the length of his spine to watch a shiver roll through him. She poked him in the hip, and he turned. "Have I told you that?"

"Once or twice," he grinned down at her. "More frequently when we first met than of late."

"Perhaps I should start again," she said before pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to cover her yawn. He watched her. "Where's Rose?"

"She's gone to have a nap," the Doctor answered. "Jack too. They're both tired. As are you by the looks of it."

"I have had three very busy days," Zoe reminded him. "And it didn't help that my best mate kept me up late the other night."

His mouth dropped open. "Zoe Tyler, you were a willing participant to those shenanigans!"

"Is that what we're calling it?"

"I don't know," he said, attempting to get closer to her but he was clumsy with his new limbs and ended up stumbling into her. She was strong and stable and kept them both from falling over the side of the building. He blinked down at her. "What do the cool kids call it?"

"I was never a cool kid," she reminded him, amused by the faint hair sprinkled across his chest. "I know what Jack would call it though."

"Please don't," the Doctor requested, face pinched.

She laughed before she took the tip of her finger and pressed it into his sternum, pushing him away from her. "You need to have a shower and wash that blood off. Then you need to put some clothes on to cover up all this naked alien flesh."

"You like this naked alien flesh." He waggled his eyebrows just to see he could. He was delighted with the result.

"That's neither here nor there," Zoe replied, keeping her eyes determinedly on his face. His smile turned sly and knowing. Aware that he liked to choose a different outfit for each body, she used the opportunity to change the subject. "What are you going to wear anyway? Please say something sensible."

" _Hey,_ all my clothes are sensible."

"Sure thing," she said, covering her mouth with her hand and coughing the word _celery_ into it.

He raised his eyebrows. "I would like to point out that I've never started a riot based on what I was wearing."

"That was one time!" She protested, cheeks flushing with colour at the memory. "And how was I to know short denim skirts weren't appropriate. It's not like they were any signs."

"I seem to recall Jack very politely suggesting that you change," the Doctor remembered with a grin, "and you giving him a long and very detailed lecture on feminism in return. You made the poor boy look like someone had kicked a puppy in front of him."

"And I recall _someone_ –" she eyeballed him pointedly, "telling Jack that it was perfectly fine for me to walk around half-naked on a planet that has very draconian views about female modesty." She dropped the timbre of her voice and picked up a Northern accent. "'Leave her alone, captain; there's nothing dangerous about this place unless you count the low doorways.'"

"I don't sound like that."

"Well, not any more," she said, speaking normally. "Give me a few weeks though to get this new voice of yours down, and then you'll be sorry."

"I'm terrified," he teased, and she pressed her tongue into her cheek to avoid laughing.

"Come on," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him back into the TARDIS. "No sense you freezing to death because you want to make me all weak-kneed at the sight of your chest."

"Is it working?" He asked curiously.

Zoe laughed. "I need at least a week of sleep and a gallon of coffee before I even think about going weak-kneed over you again."

"You and your coffee," the Doctor said, not the least bit offended by her lack of interest. "You have a problem."

"I agree: many, many problems," she said. "And most them of can be traced be to you."

"Hey!" He protested, swinging their hands between them as they walked out of the console room in the direction of her bedroom. "I resemble that remark."

She shoved him gently with her shoulder, and he only swayed under it. He opened her bedroom door for her and gestured grandly inside. Her bedroom was exactly how they had left it the previous morning and some tension that she had been unknowingly carrying in her shoulders left her at the easy familiarity of it. She dropped his hand and reached for the hem of her jumper that was stuck to her skin, struggling to get it off. She managed to get it over her head when she got it tangled up in her hair. The Doctor's hands moved to help strip it from her. He shook it out and looked at it.

"I might be able to save this," he said, but his voice was filled with doubt.

"Just toss it," she said, pushing her hair back from her face. "I've got other jumpers."

She walked into her bathroom, her counters cluttered with various lotions and toothpaste and hair serum that she used to wrestle her hair into some semblance of order, and she wet her face towel. As she wiped the blood from her skin, choosing her bed over a bath, she raised her voice so she could continue speaking with the Doctor.

"How do you decide on what to wear anyway?" She asked him. "Got a rack full of model-ready outfits to flick through?"

"No," he said, voice much closer than expected. She looked around and saw him standing in the doorway watching her. He held out his hand. "Here, let me do that." She passed the wet cloth to him and stood patiently as he cleaned the blood from her skin. "I just have a browse through the wardrobe normally and see what feels right."

"But why do you only wear one thing?" She asked. "Why not shake it up a little? You've got a whole wardrobe full of pretty amazing clothes but you stick with one outfit. Why?"

"Who wants to be bothered with deciding what to wear every morning?" He scoffed. "It's boring – even Jack doesn't mess with what works. Trousers, shirt, jacket, and he's good to go."

"Yeah, but Jack dresses, y'know, normally."

"What are you trying to imply?" He asked, rubbing at a patch of dried blood by her bellybutton.

"You've worn velvet coats, checked trousers, a rainbow coat, used an umbrella as a fashion accessory, looked like someone from down the docks, and donned bow tie without irony," Zoe told him. "You don't exactly pass as a normal bloke here on Earth."

"I'm sorry," he paused, "a bow tie?"

Zoe realised she had accidentally said something she shouldn't have. "Er – spoilers?"

He blinked but let it pass. "I don't want to look like a normal bloke. I'm not a normal bloke. I'm a Time Lord."

"You practice that in a mirror, do you? - hey!" She jerked away from where he tickled her side. "Not fair!"

"You could always help me choose," he offered as she took the cloth from him and ran it under the tap, squeezing out a stream of pinkish water before applying it vigorously to his own stained skin. "Keep me away from the vegetables."

"With how exhausted I am, I might sign off on something worse than you'd choose if you were alone," Zoe said. "I'm going to sleep, then I'm going to wake up and eat Christmas dinner and open presents, and then I'm going to sleep some more. And no alien – no matter how much I like him – is going to distract me from that."

"Have I told you," he began with a brush of heat in his voice that made her skin tingle, "how much I like it when you get all firm and teacher-y? Put your glasses on and say it again."

He surprised a laugh out of her. "My glasses? Really?"

"I didn't get the chance to appreciate them properly earlier," the Doctor told her. "Give 'em another whirl for me?"

She tossed the bloodied cloth into the sink to deal with later and gave him a little push away from her.

"Go and put some clothes on, you degenerate," Zoe told him. "You'll see me wearing them soon enough."

"Promise?" He asked cheekily, stealing a kiss from her – brief and fleeting – before he ducked when she tossed a dry sponge at his head.

He disappeared from her bedroom laughing. Only when he was gone did she let herself laugh as well. He really was the most ridiculous man she had ever met, but she did love him.

She pulled off the rest of her clothes and found one of Jack's T-shirts in her chest of drawers, pulling it on so that it fell down her thighs, and she climbed into her bed. She lay down beneath the covers and groaned in contentment. Her muscles twitched as she finally relaxed, secure in the knowledge that everything was taken care of and everyone she loved was safe and well. She slowly turned her head to the side and imagined the Doctor there – his big ears and bright blue eyes and gorgeous face. Faint grief pressed against her as she mourned the loss of his face, and she closed her eyes to keep it within her mind's eye as she fell asleep.

* * *

The dull pulse of music pumped out of the wardrobe and filled into the corridors catching Jack's attention hours later. He was on his way to the kitchen to make a cup of tea, but he changed direction and followed the music. After sleeping the whole day away, he felt much better. His wound throbbed whenever he moved too quickly and his leg felt stiff down one side, but it was clean and already beginning to heal thanks to his 51st century biology. He didn't know how Zoe and Rose put up with healing at a glacial pace: bruises lasting for days before they disappeared and cuts slowly fading over time. Sometimes the two girls struck him as incredibly fragile and their mortality frightened him. He was no less impervious to death and injury as they were, but he, like the Doctor, was less breakable.

With those morbid thoughts in his mind, he stepped through the door into the huge wardrobe that stretched up and up towards the ceiling in a tight spiral staircase with clothes of every type, fashion, era, and pattern filling every inch of the space. The first time he saw the wardrobe he had been struck dumb by it, and he was happy to spend hours and hours exploring the different clothes and trying them on even though he generally settled for the same type of outfit time and again. He let his fingers trail over a soft feather dress that was tossed carelessly over a railing, and he moved up to where the pulsating beats of music came from. Though he didn't know it, the Doctor had AC/DC blaring through the room, his off-key voice joining the chorus whenever it came about.

Jack found himself humming along with the unfamiliar rhythm as he made his way up the winding staircase before catching sight of Zoe and Rose amidst a pile of clothes. On top of Zoe's head was an elegant top hat, and Rose was laughing as she watched her sister attempt to keep a monocle in place. The glass eye kept falling from her face into her waiting hand as she was unable to keep it where it was supposed to be. Jack smiled at the sight, remembering the young girl she had been when he came aboard the TARDIS for the first time – some of her joy had been swept away by various events so he was pleased to see her happy and carefree, acting a little bit silly with her sister.

"Have you tried superglue?" Jack suggested, pitching his voice just loud enough to be heard over the music when he stepped across an unseen border and the noise was suddenly at a more reasonable level – one ear popped. "Oh."

"For some reason there was an external sound suppressor in a fur coat," Zoe told him as Jack dug his little finger into his ear to try and balance out his hearing. "Thought I'd use it since the Doctor is trying to deafen himself."

"Is he still deciding on what to wear?" He asked, stretching his jaw, and his other ear gave a satisfying pop. He shook his head. "It's been hours."

"I found him asleep in the monolithic era," Rose said. She was sat on top of a coat that was as thick as Jack was tall, her legs folded beneath her, looking perfectly comfortable. "I had to poke him awake an' make sure he didn't end up wearin' a dress."

"He promises he'll be done soon, but that was about thirty minutes ago," Zoe picked up the thread of conversation, scrunching her nose up before tossing the monocle over her shoulder. She looked up at him, her damp hair twisted around her head in two tight braids. "You look better. How's your side?"

"Little sore, but fine," he said. "Did you both get some sleep?"

"I did," Rose said, flopping back and laughing to herself when she bounced back up: the material of the coat acting as a semi-trampoline. "Not as much as Zoe though. She was snorin'."

"I was not!"

"Yes you were," she laughed, wrapping the coat around her and mimicking how she had found her sister with deep, loud snores. "Like a bear!"

Zoe grabbed a slipper in the shape of a two-headed armadillo and hurled it at her sister. "Stop your slander!"

"Ladies, ladies," Jack said with amused calm, sliding his body to sit between them. "Violence will solve nothing."

"Satisfying though," Zoe replied, leaning in to playfully headbutt his arm. He put it around her and pulled her against his side. She shifted and, to get comfortable, draped her legs over his thighs. "Anyone want to place bets on what he's going to choose? I think I saw a flash of a pink kaftan when I had a nose earlier. I say ten-to-one he chooses that."

"Don't be mean," Rose chastised, unwrapping herself from her cocoon.

"Rosie, you haven't seen pictures of him in the past," Zoe argued. "Trust me when I say that a pink kaftan will be a significant improvement over what he's worn before. I really think we lucked out with the leather and jeans."

Jack snorted, and he wanted to see those pictures as soon as possible. "What are the odds he wears something with bananas?"

"Oh god," Zoe groaned, horrified. "I hadn't even thought of that. I know for a fact there's a silk shirt in there with bananas on it because I bought it for him."

Rose sat up. "Why'd you do that?"

"It was a moment of weakness!" She protested. "He'd been really nice to me and helping me through Reinette's death, and I saw the shirt and I just bought it without thinking about the consequences. I didn't think he'd actually wear it because he only wore jumpers."

"If he chooses that shirt, I'm burnin' it an' then I'm burnin' you," Rose threatened.

Zoe's mouth dropped open. "You'll burn me?"

"Like Mickey's attempt a birthday cake," she assured her.

"You are really mean when you're hungry," Zoe said but there were crinkles of laughter in the corners of her eyes.

The three of them chatted easily together. Despite the time that they had spent apart, they fell back into the patterns of who they were to each other seamlessly. Light teasing filled their conversation and laughter dominated the air around them. Zoe felt alert and light-hearted: sleep, shower, and coffee had been exactly what she needed in order to feel like herself again. That morning felt like a lifetime ago, the memory lightly dulled by a sleep so deep that she was surprised Jackie's call to tell her that dinner was on the table within the hour was enough to wake her. Everything felt different, lighter and happier. It felt as though she was experiencing a brand new day with the griefs and troubles of the past behind her. She doubted that the feeling was going to last long so she was determined to enjoy it as much as she could before it faded from her.

"Do either of you have any idea where we're going to go after Christmas?" Jack asked, speaking through a mouthful of bobby pins as he fixed one of Zoe's wonky braids that was annoying him, trapping her between his thighs as she settled on the floor in front of him. "Has he said anything?"

"I've asked to go somewhere hot and relaxing," Zoe told them, trying not to fidget as Jack's fingers worked through her hair. "A resort where I can lie on a beach, drink cocktails, and just _relax_. No fate of the universe on my shoulders, no worrying about my idiot friends –"

Jack gave a gentle tug on her hair, and she grunted.

"Just sun, beach, fruity drinks, and the people I love," she continued. "I also need to go back and take my final exams, but that'll only take two weeks. And Massachusetts is lovely in the summer. There'll be plenty to do there if you decide to stick around for all of it. Can't say I'll be much company though. I'm imagining there'll be a lot of stress in my immediate future."

"I like the idea of a resort," Jack said, sliding a bobby pin into place. "Toss in some sex and it's perfect."

"With me?" She asked, momentarily concerned.

"I mean, I won't say no," he said, and Rose groaned, disgusted at the image. "But I meant with other people. Although, if you're offering –"

"I'm not," she quickly assured him, cheeks hot. She looked at her sister desperate to move the conversation on. "What about you? Fancy a holiday at a resort?"

"Let me think." Rose rolled her eyes. "Spendin' time at a resort or spendin' time on the estate with Mum and Mickey. What a hard decision to make."

"I also want to drag Mickey and Mum with us," Zoe said, blithely ignoring her sister's sarcasm and delighting in the horror that flashed across her face. "Don't look like that. I've barely spent any time with them the last few years. I want everyone I love in one place having fun and relaxing. I want eyes on you all at all times. Consider it your Christmas gift to me."

"I've already got you a present," she groused.

Zoe looked interested. "What did you get me?"

"You have to wait like one hour to find out," Rose said with a shake of her head. "An' what is takin' the Doctor so long? Honestly, he's worse than Shareen on a night out."

Jack tied off the end of Zoe's braid and gave her shoulder a pat. "Have I met Shareen?"

"Not yet," she said, reaching her fingers up to test the braid, and she smiled gratefully at him. "But I'm sure you'll see her whilst we're here. Her and Rose always get disgracefully drunk on New Year's."

Rose grinned. "Nothin' disgraceful about it."

"So I figure if we're here for New Year's Eve then you can go and experience a 21st century London celebration," she said. "We can make it as tacky as hell for you and take you down to the London Eye."

"That's goin' to be awful!" Rose laughed, making herself bounce. "Let's do it! A proper tourist New Year's Eve so you get the crap experience before we give you the native one."

Jack looked thrilled. "I'm – what's the expression? In for that?"

"Down for that," they said in unison.

Zoe returned to her seat next to him and crossed her legs beneath her as she looked at Rose and Jack. The change in her relationship with the Doctor had made her more conscious of how much she loved and appreciated Rose and Jack. As children, she and Rose were always close but since they started travelling with the Doctor, they had become even closer. It was something she was deeply grateful for it. The years that Zoe had lived and Rose hadn't echoed between them, needing something to fill the gap so that they didn't drift apart, but Zoe wasn't overly worried about that. She and Rose were bound together by love and a shared history; they would eventually be able to find a new normal that took into account Zoe's changes. Whilst Jack was relatively new in the grand scheme of things, she adored him with a fierceness that surprised her. He fit in the dynamic of the TARDIS with such natural ease that it was like he had always been there and, sometimes, Zoe forgot that he hadn't.

Four years of grating loneliness and an appreciation for telling people what she felt when she had the chance made her open her mouth.

"Can I just say," Zoe said, feeling oddly vulnerable as she usually shared her serious emotions with the Doctor, "that I really love travelling with you two. Travelling with the Doctor's great and completely amazing, but getting to share it with both of you just makes it so much better."

Rose's entire body softened at her sister's honest and earnest statement. It was something that she herself had been feeling for some time. She thought back to her first trips with the Doctor – Platform One and Cardiff in 1869 – and they were thrilling adventures that made her blood race and her heart pound. She would have been happy to continue in that same vein, and they had done for a little after the events of Downing Street, but when Zoe came onboard to travel everything became so much better because it was something she could share with her sister. And then Jack's arrival filled the empty slot that no one knew had been waiting for him. She glanced at Jack, whose face momentarily shone with more emotion than he was comfortable with, and watched as he smiled softly at Zoe. Her heart fluttered in her chest, aware of how easy it was to fall in love with him.

"I love travelling with you both too," Jack said. "Meeting you lot? Best thing that's ever happened to me."

Tears pressed into the backs of Rose's eyes. Never particularly good at dealing with strong emotions, she unfolded herself from the thick coat and launched herself at Zoe and Jack, pulling them into a tight hug as she knocked them back into a rail of evening wear best suited for dancing on the planet Fesra and which came tumbling down around them. Jack landed on the ground with a dull thud, and Zoe managed to avoid landing on his sore hip at the last moment by twisting herself onto her side. Jack laughed under the assault, wrapping his arms around both of them as they all became a confused tangle of limbs and laughter. Moments later, finally ready, that was how the Doctor found them when he stepped out of the forest of clothes and spread his arms wide.

"Ta-da!" He exclaimed like a magician performing his best magic trick. He looked down at them in surprise. "Have I missed something?"

Zoe's attempts at muffling her laughter in Jack's chest were for nought as her shoulders shook and the Doctor, always attuned to her varying moods, watched her with a look of bemusement. She gave it up for lost and struggled to sit up, requiring Jack to plant hand on her back and gave her a shove so that she was able to right herself. She pulled herself forwards and looked at up the Doctor, pleasantly surprised.

"Look at you!" She grinned, her eyes sweeping over him. He held himself open for her inspection. "That's not half-bad actually."

He wore a fitted, dark brown, pinstriped suit with a pale blue dress shirt that he kept unbuttoned at the top, offsetting it with a maroon tie underneath a long, light brown coat that hung a mere inch from the floor. It was a complete change from his previous outfit, and Zoe found herself liking it.

"Give us a whirl," Jack requested, sitting up with Rose in his lap, his arms around her waist.

The Doctor put his hands in the pockets of his coat to pull it out to his sides, and he spun in a circle for them.

"How tight is that suit?" Rose asked, peering at him with cheeky interest. "Can you even bend over in it?"

"Course I can," the Doctor scoffed, pulling one of his long legs to his chest to demonstrate and also reveal that he wasn't wearing any socks. "The material's nice and flexible, not like your Earth stuff. How you move about in those jeans of yours I'll never know." Rose rolled her eyes at the familiar complaint. "So, do I get your approval?"

"Yeah," Rose said, her tongue curling behind her teeth as she smiled, eyes bright. "You look very handsome, Doctor. Different, but handsome."

He raised his eyebrows. "Good different?"

"Just... _different_."

"Well, I like it," Jack said, chin on Rose's shoulder and a smile aimed at the Doctor. "It's very professor-chic."

"Oh, speaking of professor-chic, check it out," the Doctor said, digging his hand into his pocket. He removed a pair of glasses and slipped them onto his face, pleased with himself. "Now Zoe and I match!"

Zoe sat back on her elbows and laughed at him. "You don't even _need_ glasses."

"Nope," he said, popping the _p_ , "but I like the way they make me look, and I think it adds some gravitas to an otherwise youthful appearance. Can't be having people doubting me in the middle of a crisis. The glasses say – ooo, look at this handsome man, he clearly knows what he's talking about, let's listen to him."

Jack didn't attempt to smother his laughter. "Is that what you think they'll say?"

"You're ridiculous," Rose told him, her cheeks aching from smiling and laughing so much. "Completely barmy."

He rocked on his feet, happy with the assessment. "Yep."

"Well, I think you look very nice," Zoe told him honestly. She was pleased, and more than a little relieved, by how decent his chosen outfit was. Both of them knew that she wouldn't have minded if he had chosen to wear a pink kaftan with sparkling boots, but she would have teased him mercilessly for it. He was happy with his new clothes as well; they felt comfortable and right. "I'm going to miss the leather though. I really loved the smell of that leather jacket."

Jack groaned happily, rubbing his forehead against the side of Rose's neck. "God, it smelt amazing, didn't it?"

"It really, really did," Rose agreed, and the Doctor recognised the look on her face as the one she got when ate a really good packet of chips. "When it was all mixed in with his cologne as well an' you'd hug him, an' it was just... _yeah._ "

The Doctor observed them, openly baffled at their shared reminiscences. "There's something undeniably strange about you three."

Zoe snorted and rose to her feet. "Probably the company we keep."

It took him a second to hear the insult, and his face – so much more expressive than the last – twisted with understanding. "Hey!"

"Come on," she encouraged them, brushing the front of her dress down to get rid of the lint and dust that clung to it from rolling amongst the clothes. "Mum's putting dinner on the table, and I am so hungry right now I might eat Jack."

The man in question looked up with a curious expression. "Why me?"

"You look like you're the tastiest."

"Well, I've had no complaints before," he said lasciviously, and they all groaned.

Rose gave him a small shove that toppled him over again, and the Doctor reached for Zoe's hand. She gave it to him and leaned in so she could rest her forehead against his upper arm briefly. His suit didn't smell like him yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time before he absorbed his cologne and the faint scent of chalk dust and lime that clung to him no matter what. She let herself enjoy the warmth of him as they left the wardrobe and made their way out of the TARDIS. When they stepped outside, she was surprised to find that night had fallen in their absence. Above their head, a few stars were visible through the light pollution, and her hand squeezed the Doctor's in quiet surprise when a firework exploded overhead and shimmers of green glittering light rained down over the city.

"Fireworks," Jack breathed in delighted surprise, his face tilted up towards the sky and a soft expression settled on his entranced features. "I love fireworks. When I was a kid there used to be some for special occasions like colonial anniversaries or whenever something was completed in the shipyards. My brother and I used to climb to the top of the sand dunes to try and touch them. Our mother told us that if we were able to bottle the light then she'd make us our favourite cake."

"That's really sweet," Rose said softly, arm looped through his. "You don't talk about your family much. I just realised that."

"Not much to talk about," he lied quietly. "Dad and brother are dead; Mum and I don't really talk much any more. I've just got my memories."

A warm, solid hand came to rest on his shoulder, and the Doctor spoke with understanding. "I know that feeling. It's a nice memory though. I can see you trying to do that – the impossible."

"Not impossible," Jack said with an knowing glance at Zoe, "just improbable."

She smiled at him and took his hand within her free one, looking up at the sky with him. The four of them stood there and watched as the fireworks exploded above them. They knew they needed to go down into the flat where Jackie and Mickey were waiting, but not one of them wanted to move before they were ready. Standing there, the four of them, who had been through so much together, felt at peace.

"Once all Zoe's loose ends are tied up, holiday included," the Doctor said into the comfortable silence, "does anyone have somewhere they'd like to go next?"

"I'm easy," Jack said, leaning back against the Doctor's chest, softly happy with the fireworks in the sky and his friends around him. "I'm sure it'll be great no matter where we go."

"As long as we're together," Zoe said honestly, "I'm fine with whatever our destination is."

"Rose?" The Doctor asked, lifting his arm to give her space against his side. "Any requests?"

Rose looked up at the night's sky, and she imagined it filled with hundreds of thousands of stars that spread like glittering gems across the black canvas. The bright, colourful lights of the fireworks spread across her vision and were reflected in her eyes. It didn't matter where they went. She didn't care about their destination. All Rose cared about was that the four of them got to explore the universe together. The Doctor, her sister, Jack, and herself – nothing else mattered to her. Lifting her arm, she pointed in a direction away from the fireworks and wondered what was out there. Three sets of eyes followed her finger, and she looked at the Doctor.

"There."

"There?" He asked with a gentle tease, pointing in the same direction.

A shy, pleased smile stretched across her face, and she nodded. "Right there."

"All right then," the Doctor said, drawing them closer to him so that he had all three of them within his arms. "There it is."

And they stood there in the cold air of a Christmas night and let themselves dream of adventures still yet to come.

The End

 _Team TARDIS will return_

 _on_

 _in 2020_


End file.
